


Many Fics of Pharmercy

by JocelynTorrent



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 00:23:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 110
Words: 67,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9265589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JocelynTorrent/pseuds/JocelynTorrent
Summary: I've finally decided to copy all of my answered tumblr prompts over to ao3. All pharmercy with bits and pieces of others scattered in ranging from G-E in rating. Ratings will be listed in chapter titles. If you'd like to prompt feel free to visit my tumblr of the same name. If you have the means and would like to, I have a ko-fi page set up. But it is never necessary and thank you for your support in any means you provide it <3 https://ko-fi.com/F1F291X9





	1. Sparring-T

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: fareeha and angela sparring on one of the mats on the gym and things get too heated and they end up having sex whoops

“I’m fairly certain,” Angela breathed, “that this is _not_ a double leg takedown.”

Fareeha chuckled and continued to press tender kisses against Angela’s inner thighs. Her skin was heated, sweat laced from their practice, and she could feel the muscles twitching beneath her lips. The mat beneath them stuck to her knees and she pulled them off with a pop, sinking onto her stomach. Angela’s shorts and panties were somewhere over her shoulder, long discarded, and all her lover wore now was her shirt and sports bra. Fareeha’s fingers slid up Angela’s narrow waist, hooking the hem of her shirt and pulling it up to expose a lean, pale torso.

“Who’s the expert here?” she finally answered the quip before blowing cool air on Angela’s navel. Angela jumped, a ticklish gasp escaping before an annoyed huff followed.

“I’m starting to think you aren’t an expert. You just lured me into,” she looked around, “mat with your lies.”

“If I’m not an expert,” Fareeha hummed up her abdomen, pressing gentle weight onto Angela before kissing her chin. “Then why are you pinned?”

The stupid pun coupled with Fareeha’s rare, silly smile won the blonde over. She rolled her blue eyes but smiled as she lifted her legs around Fareeha’s firm waist, locking them at the ankles. Fareeha grinned, ready to resume, before Angela twisted her hips, body jerking and flipping the soldier onto her back on the map. Now straddling her waist, it was Angela’s turn to purr, running her fingers down the sweat collecting on Fareeha’s shirt.

“How’s that for a double leg takedown?”

Fareeha snorted, eyes thrown back to laugh even as she gripped Angela’s supple thighs. “Nothing at all like a double leg takedown. But I appreciate the pun.”

“I figured you would. Now, finish what you started.”


	2. The Payload-M

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: pharmercy do the bang bang against a wall ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Angela was always alert on missions. She wasn’t particularly a fighter, so she had to rely on quick maneuvering and forethought to escape. Even the dullest of missions that held minimal threat, such as this one, kept her on her toes. Escort the payload down the road. She takes up the back, as always, to keep safe, and listens for any signs from her comrades ahead of danger. So far there had been none, and the conversation at hand seems to consist of the benefits of peanut butter, with Winston leading the discussion.

She quickly drifts from that topic and instead focuses on the dilapidated gas station to her right. Antiques interest her somewhat, especially when left forgotten, and she takes a quick step inside to peer around. Rusted oil cans, old tires, a candy bar wrapper, nothing really of interest. But it is a nice change of scenery from the miles and miles of orange.

Hands on her shoulder make her jump, and Fareeha is quick to put her at ease with a kiss to her cheek. Angela huffs and turns around. Fareeha always looks magnificent in her raptora suit. Strong and tall, deadly with the rockets that hang from her back. She carries the weight effortlessly and smiles at Angela as she sets her helmet on a nearby table. Angela recognizes the look in those lovely dark eyes and shakes her head.

“Fareeha, we’re on a mission.”

Fareeha still steps closer, arms reaching out when Angela does not reject her advance. “They can handle it for a few moments. I saw no threats in my scouting.”

Angela accepts the hands on her waist but still continues to back up until the backs of her wings scrape against the aging wall of the garage. Fareeha grins wider and traces a finger over the rim of the halo on her Valkyrie suit.

“You know what this suit does to me.”

“Yes, you’ve told me several ti—

Angela’s words break off in a surprised cry when Fareeha grabs her thighs and lifts her off the ground. She presses Angela against the wall and holds her there with just a thigh between her legs. Angela gasps, hands instinctively going towards Fareeha’s shoulders to steady herself as she feels the thigh between her legs start to move.

“Fareeha, the payload,” she tries again, though she does not believe it herself.

“Is fine. The others are not so distracted.”

“I don’t think—ah _herrjemine!”_

Fareeha has found that spot on her neck as she gripped her thighs. The soldier snorts at the phrase, an equivalent of “oh my” and kisses her jaw.

“Careful, _herr doctor_. Such naughty language is sure to drive a girl wild.”

Angela has taken to a quick pace of grinding herself on Fareeha’s thigh. For all of her exhibitionism, even Fareeha knows it wouldn’t do to remove all of their armor on a potential battleground. This would have to do. And do it did as she watched Angela’s plump lips part, her body moving fluidly in the skin-tight suit.

“Beautiful,” she comments quietly, reaching towards those enticing lips. A single, pale finger stops her and Angela shakes her head before raking her teeth across the bottom one.

“It’s _frau doctor_ ,” Angela manages, even as her breathing comes shorter, little moans escaping with each harsh jerk of her hips.

Fareeha smiles and grips the back of her neck, pulling her into a searing kiss so that she can taste the sound of Angela coming. It tastes exquisite. Angela’s tongue molding with her own and the vibrations of her moans pouring down Fareeha’s throat to melt her heart. Angela’s hands, always, _always_ soft, travel up her neck before burying themselves in her jet black hair. They kiss long after the aftershocks have passed, Fareeha holding her lover until she can stand for herself.

“Fareeha,” Angela half-whimpers when she pulls away finally. The sound alone makes Fareeha want her even more. Coupled with swollen lips and lust-glazed eyes, it takes every ounce of will the soldier has to take Angela’s hands and pull her from the wall.

“Later, darling,” she teases. “Remember the payload.”


	3. Overworked-E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: fareeha bends angela over her desk

Papers crumple beneath her. Folders bent and staples digging. Personal information scattered and stained with sweat that collects along her spine. An errant slide of her hand sends a cup of pens to the floor. They spill and slide along the tile but are already forgotten. Angela whimpers in the quiet sterility of the med bay. Between her legs, Fareeha chuckles. She’s on her knees in front of the good doctor, driving her wild with teasing strokes of her tongue.

“Fareeha,” Angela pants. Somewhere a corner of a file digs into her shoulder, but she only pushes harder against her soldier. There’s a strange conflict in her mind. Fear of getting caught couple with the arousal that comes from being so naughty. She wants Fareeha to hurry up and finish so that she can relax. Alternatively, she never wants her to stop. And a secret, small part of her wants someone to see. Wants them to walk in and see the prodigious doctor naked on her desk with Fareeha Amari between her legs. The sturdy, silent soldier who is all liquid heat and purrs.

Angela fists that dark, sleek hair and grips until Fareeha groans. A warning. She can only take so much teasing, and her body is on fire, doused by sweat and aching with yearning. Fareeha meets her eyes, blue and sinful beneath a mop of angelic hair. And Angela feels her tongue, harder now, in slow strokes against her clit. She breathes out in relief, hips matching the languid rhythm of her lover. Now that she has Fareeha where she wants her, they can go as slowly as she likes.

Fareeha likes the ebb and flow of Angela’s body. Her hips are naturally wide, filling Fareeha’s hands as she digs into the supple, warm flesh. The doctor trains like everyone else in Overwatch, and there is a faint rise in her abdomen from hard earned muscle. They crest and fall with each stroke of her tongue and Fareeha growls against her. Her hands slide up Angela’s hips to grip at the muscle, feeling it jerk and tense beneath her palm.

“So beautiful,” she comments at the pale skin that bleeds through her darker hands. Angela whimpers in response, raking her teeth over swollen bottom lip.

Her whimper turns into a cry as Fareeha presses two fingers inside of her without warning. She’s more than ready to accept, but Fareeha curls them over the ridge of muscle she knows so well. Angela’s body bows, heels digging into Fareeha’s back as she accepts the burn of being filled. And the soldier, for all her strength and will, cannot resist it. Her mouth leaves Angela’s sex to trail over her bowed body, fingers still pumping to keep her at this glorious angle. Angela’s breasts bounce against each thrust and Fareeha catches one in her teeth, biting gently before soothing it with her tongue.

Angela’s cries leave the soldier breathless, panting hot puffs against already heated skin. She’s knuckle deep inside of her lover but she needs more. Angela isn’t prepared for the sudden emptiness when Fareeha pulls her fingers out. But her whimpers of frustration turns into a gasp of surprise as Fareeha grips her waist and spins her around. Angela’s thighs bump her desk and she bends over it, legs spreading automatically. Her fingers reach the edge of the desk just in time to grip tightly as Fareeha slides inside of her again.

This is more like it, Fareeha thinks, watching Angela’s ass bounce against her hips. She works her hips along with her hand for more thrust, free hand splaying along the small of Angela’s back. Angela cries out in beats and pants, legs spreading wider because she too wants more. Fareeha understands and slips in a third finger. Angela stretches around the added width and clamps down, her cheek resting against test results. The doctor has a prodigious mind, but Fareeha has rendered it useless, helpless to nothing but the feel of Fareeha against her and inside of her.

The muscles of Angela’s back are a sight to behold. Straining and turning as she bucks helplessly against her hand. Fareeha rakes her nails down the long spine and relishes the muffled hiss she gets in response. Four scorching red marks are soothed by Fareeha’s tongue. She climbes her way up Angela’s back before sinking her teeth into her shoulder. Tendons, muscle, and bone shift beneath her teeth. She feels Angela’s hand circle around, gripping the outside of her ass and digging in to quell the pain.

She’s close now. Fareeha feels it in the tightness around her fingers, the way the doctor is no longer watching her volume. Gibberish falls from Angela’s mouth, a mix of English and German and who knows how many other languages she knows. Sweat glistens along her back and Fareeha tastes it on her tongue. Desires more but first things first. Fareeha slides her free hand down between Angela’s hips and her desk. She finds her clit and no sooner has she skimmed it once Angela comes.

A lovely cry falls from parted lips, body seizing as Fareeha slows, but does not stop, her motions, guiding Angela through every aftershock. Only after Angela has collapsed on her desk does Fareeha remove her fingers. She cleans herself, savoring Angela’s taste, before turning her lover back over. Angela still hasn’t come back to her, eyes still closed and chest heaving. Fareeha smiles at the lovely sight and leans over her to kiss the curve of her jaw.

“Are you alright?”

Angela chuckles, because of course she is, but Fareeha never fails to ask every time. The laugh is answer enough as she feels Fareeha’s lips against her own. They kiss slowly, sweetly, another flavor all together from the moment they just shared.

“Feeling better?” Fareeha asks when she pulls away. Her dark eyes shine, a hint of a smile on the corner of her lips. Angela grins. She had forgotten entirely about mentioning her stress to her lover.

“I am. Thank you, darling.” Angela cups Fareeha’s cheek in gratitude and is rewarded with a kiss to her palm.

“Good,” Fareeha sighs, and Angela foresees the jest coming in those eyes. “Because I’m going to be stressed when you get home. And you’ll get to return the favor.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”


	4. High Class-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: important high class overwatch gala thing for publicity and everyone is dressed up in nice ass clothes with angela in a sexy af dress and fareeha in a nice suit ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

There was no question Angela was the belle of the ball. Her gown was sleeveless silk, cobalt color lined in silver beading. Tight around the torso, it flowed out around her legs and made her look as if she was parting water when she walked. When she first walked in, the doctor had been greeted with whistles and applause so fervent it darkened her cheeks. Now that the initial excitement died down, she mingled easily with the others, talking and laughing and enjoying the warm buzz from the champagne.

Music started to play, and people had taken to the dance floor. Angela politely declined any offers with her ever gentle smile and a touch of their hand. She wasn’t in the mood to dance. At least not yet.

But ever alert, she did catch the change in mood. The silence between beats of music that told her something needed her attention. She turned and followed the crowd’s gaze, nearly spilling her champagne over when she saw what they were looking at.

Who, rather.

Fareeha strode elegantly across the gala with one hand tucked in the pocket of her waistcoat. The waistcoat itself was cream colored with golden embroidery and buttons. It must have been tailored, the way it hugged every inch of her body. The shoulders needed no padding, and her polished black shoes clicked with authority as she strode over to the doctor.

With her ever casual smile, Fareeha took Angela’s hand and kiss the top of it elegantly. “You are stunning, Angela.”

“Speak for yourself, Fareeha.”

Fareeha chuckles, an embarrassed hand moving to straighten her tie, only to render it slightly crooked. Angela clicked her tongue and reached out to fix, marveling at the rich material.

“Would you dance with me?” Fareeha asked, voice only slightly hoarse.

Angela smiled, suddenly in the mood, and put her hand in Fareeha’s.


	5. Unwind-M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: angela can't sleep because of stress and fareeha helps her unwind ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

A little known fact about Angela Ziegler, Fareeha noted, was that if she couldn’t sleep, no one could. She realized this at around 3am, when Angela huffed for the umpteenth time and rolled over in the sheets with a vengeance. Still, Fareeha couldn’t find herself to be angry, especially when she heard frustrated German whisperings.

Angela often muttered to herself when she was lost in thought. It helped her compartmentalize, focus, and pushed forward that prodigal mind to an answer. Fareeha sat up with a sigh and rolled over, spooning her lover and holding her close. Angela tensed in surprise, then relaxed, fingertips trailing over Fareeha’s forearm.

“I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Liar,” Fareeha mumbled, nuzzling the short hairs of Angela’s undercut. She’d need to tend to it soon. They’d gotten longer and softer.

“Truly,” Angela whined slightly, rolling onto her back so she could look Fareeha in the eyes. “I lose myself sometimes when I…”

“Still thinking about—

“Yes.”

Fareeha nodded even as she pulled Angela on top of her while she rolled on her back. “Well, you woke me up regardless. Might as well make it worth my while.”

Angela’s teeth flashed white in the shadows of the room. Fareeha felt hands skimming her sides, the muscles that Angela loved so much. She reached the hem of Fareeha’s shirt and tugged it upwards. Fareeha lifted and heard the sound of it fluttering to the floor. Angela’s thumb skimmed her lip, finding her mouth, and she kissed her deeply. Fareeha moaned happily in her mouth and gripped Angela’s wide hips. The blonde straddled her elegantly, hands running over hard muscle as tongues entwined.

Parting with a hot breath, Angela kissed Fareeha’s chin before she delved lower. She raked her teeth along the tendons of her neck and nipped at familiar spots that made the soldier shiver. Fareeha’s head dipped back, exposing more neck that Angela greedily devoured. She felt goosebumps rising beneath her palms and smiled against Fareeha’s skin.

Fareeha’s body burned with desire. It betrayed her with shudders and twitches and moans that spurred Angela further. Angela raked her teeth across a firm, dark nipple as her hand smoothed over Fareeha’s mound. Fareeha let out a whimpering breath when a slender finger dipped into her folds.

“So wet,” Angela purred.

Fareeha opened her mouth to retort, but was silenced by plump lips against her own. The finger between her legs slid upward and circled just as Fareeha liked. The soldier moaned and arched into Angela. Her fingers rounded the blonde’s back and dug in, hips riding Angela’s palm. Angela nuzzled her cheek against Fareeha’s, moaning softly at the response she was getting.

The soldier gave an unseen smile. Her lover was captivated by her, thoughts filled only with pleasing her. It was as close to a respite as Angela could get. And Fareeha was more than happy to give it to her. It was late, however, so neither of them drew out the orgasm, Fareeha coming with a hiss and an arched back. No sooner had she relaxed onto the bed than she heard Angela give a yawn.

“Am I boring you?” Fareeha chuckled.

Angela snorted in response and fell back into her usual place in the soldier’s arms. Moments later, she was finally asleep. Fareeha nuzzled the soft, blonde hair and held her close, willing her lover to have sweet dreams as she too succumbed to sleep.


	6. Baths-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: fareeha and angela take a bath (really fluffly and cute)

Angela stood over the bathtub with her arms wrapped around her waist. Her robe was white and lush and as she gazed down with cautious curiosity, she reminded Fareeha of a bunny. The soldier, already in the water, chuckled and gestured for her to enter.

“I don’t think there’s any room for me,” Angela said, reaching down to dust some bubbles from the top of Fareeha’s head.

“Nonsense,” Fareeha answered. Her knees crested out of the water on either side of the tub and Angela raised an eyebrow.

“You added too much water.”

“I’ll clean it up. Please,” Fareeha begged, extending her palm. Angela heaved a sigh that was mostly playful and dropped her robe. She let Fareeha get an eyeful before taking her hand and stepping warily into the tub. Despite her ease as descending into the water, Fareeha had indeed filled it too much and water poured over the side. Angela whimpered at the thought of her bathrobe and the mats but was quickly quieted by calloused, strong hands on her shoulders. They rubbed into the ever present knots of tension on her back. Angela’s protests fizzled out into a sigh, and she leaned her head back on Fareeha’s shoulder.

Fareeha kissed the side of Angela’s head and brought her arms around to hold her close. Angela’s soft skin was silken in the water and she ran her hands up and down the length of her torso.

“I love you,” she murmured, as she often did when taken with her lover.

Angela smiled softly in her peripheral. Bashful almost, as if she still didn’t quite believe it. “I love you, too, my darling.” She enforced the point by turning her head enough to catch Fareeha’s lips. They kissed sweetly, Fareeha’s hands running bubbles over Angela’s body. When they pulled away, Angela hummed softly.

“The water’s turning cold.”

“That is how baths work, Angela.”

Fareeha was graced with a wide smile and playful pat on her knee. She then watched as Angela expertly twisted the knob with her foot to let more hot water rush into the tub. “So talented,” she commented as she gently sucked the water from Angela’s shoulder.

“I am a prodigy, after all.”

It was Fareeha’s turn to laugh, pulling Angela closer in a warm embrace. “You know this won’t get either of us clean?”

“Then we’ll be sure to shower afterward.”


	7. Showers-M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: pharmercy quickie in the shower before work

“Do you still think shower benches are for the elderly?” Angela purred by Fareeha’s hear. Hot, hot water splashed against her thighs, against Angela’s back, her pale skin pink from the heat. It washed over stomach and made it tighten. The room smelled of steam and soap and Angela. Glorious Angela who was crouched in front of her tall lover, working the showerhead between her legs.

The showerhead pulsed perfectly, the water’s heat jolting her with every sharp thrust against it. Her entire waist vibrated from the pulses, and Angela admired her tight grip on the bench. “I will take that as a ‘no.’ We both know you couldn’t stand in this state.”

Angela chuckled as Fareeha growled. “I…I c-could,” she managed in between pants. She was close already, and it was just as well. They were due at work in twenty.

A sculpted brow rose, and Angela pushed the showerhead harder, changing the setting to a different pulse. Fareeha skidded her heel against the slick tile floor, the bench sliding back until she collided with the wall. Her hands reached out to grip Angela’s shoulders, and she grinned happily as the blonde gave a pleasured hiss from the pain. She deserved it, a little, for the teasing she’d done this morning and continued to do.

“Angela, please.”

“Please what?”

“We,” she paused to groan, hips still rocking, “we have to get to work.”

Angela’s chuckle dripped sex into the steam that Fareeha greedily inhaled. “Far be it from me to ruin your perfect record.”

A slight change of the angle had Fareeha on the balls of her feet, arms shaking and moans echoing against the tile. A few more thrusts and she came, leaning over and resting her forehead against the top of Angela’s head as she rode out the aftershocks. She felt peace for just a brief moment before she heard that telltale impish chuckle. Water rushed into her face before she could stop it. Fareeha flailed and sputtered, reaching out for Angela’s slippery skin.

“You _will_ pay for that!” she laughed, fingers dancing across Angela’s ribs and making her squeal.

“Work!” Angela tried between fits of laughter. “You’ll be late for work!”

Fareeha lifted her lover onto her lap and surprised her with a sweet kiss. “You’re so lucky I’m a professional, doctor.”


	8. Ikea-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Pharmercy and gremlin child Hana go to ikea on a family outing. Bonus - mercy and pharah are caught making out on one of the beds

“Moms, _moms_ , could _try_ to be a little less embarrassing?” Hana whined as she walked about three feet in front of them.

Fareeha sighed before sharing Angela’s smile. “What could we possibly be doing now?”

Hana turned around with a look that told them both it should be obvious and gestured to their clasped hands. Angela frowned and looked down at their hands. “This is embarrassing?”

“Hmm, maybe you’re both just embarrassing.”

“You know what’s more embarrassing?” Fareeha asked as they entered the store, “Not getting McDonalds because you were being a shit.”

With a dramatic gasp Hana picked up a lamp with a stand that looked like a sniper rifle and aimed it at Fareeha. “I will no-scope you right here, right now. No Dew required.”

Angela stepped forward with a look that even gave the gremlin pause and pushed the barrel of the ‘gun’ down. “Enough. Stay out of trouble until we’re done and we’ll get lunch.”

“MCDON—

“Yes, yes McDonalds. _Mein gott du bist so ein Bengel.“*_

Hana narrowed her eyes even as she made her way towards the cafe while walking backwards. “I don’t know what that meant but I know that I’m offended.”

Fareeha waved the child off and took Angela in her arms to calm her down. “She’s suffering caffeine withdrawals. She’ll be better once she’s had her soda.”

Angela was still tense in her arms so Fareeha led her down her favorite section: the bedroom showrooms. The blonde had been wanting to redo their bedroom for ages and she was finally convinced of it enough to shop around. Or at least look. As they strode through the showrooms Angela gradually relaxed, going so far as to rest her head on Fareeha’s shoulder. Fareeha leaned down and kissed the top of her golden hair, watching as Angela pointed to a room.

“Oh, Fareeha, I love this one!” She practically danced over and ran her hands along the bedspread. Fareeha followed with a casual smile and nodded when needed. As a soldier she didn’t much care what her bedding looked like so long as she could sleep on it. But Angela’s excitement was contagious and as she flitted about the room, Fareeha couldn’t help but catch her and pull her close.

Angela flashed her a cheeky look. “What are you doing?”

“You know what I’m doing.”

Angela’s chuckle was cut off as they kissed. Surprisingly, the store was not crowded, and they were somewhat alone. It allowed their kiss to get more and more heated, relishing in the silence Hana’s absence allowed. Fearing the prefab walls, Fareeha laid Angela down on the bed, hand running down her side to feel the smooth sheets beneath with her fingers. Angela was right. This was a lovely bed set. And her lover looked even better on top of it.

“Oh. My. God.”

The two lovers turned their heads and came face to face with Hana. Soda in hand, about seven Swedish meatballs in her mouth, and something very clearly stolen poking out beneath her shirt, Hana stared wide eyed at the two. Angela and Fareeha blushed simultaneously before watching Hana’s face crack into a wide smile.

“I’m _definitely_ getting McDonalds.”

*Translation: My god, you’re such a shit. 


	9. Ticklish-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: fareeha discovers that angela is really ticklish wont stop tickling her

Angela was just starting to relax. The movie was interesting and sweet. Dinner, nearly done, smelled lovely as it baked in the oven, and Fareeha sat warmly by her side. Fareeha’s arm came around her shoulder and Angela snuggled into her side, inhaling the spicy perfume of her lover. Just as her eyes started to close, Fareeha’s fingers ran along her ribs.

Angela squealed, a mixture of a laugh and a cry, and leapt from the sofa. “ _Fareeha_ ,” she scolded, oblivious to Fareeha’s laughter. “This is the fourth time! I’m warning you.”

“Warning me?” Fareeha asked between laughs, eyebrows raised. “Is that a challenge, doctor?”

Angela flashed her a glare that made Fareeha’s smile wane. She stood with her arms outstretched in surrender, eyes kind despite their mirth. “I’m sorry. I just…it’s so hard to get the jump on you.”

Despite the warning signs, Angela stepped into those strong arms. Fareeha held her tightly and tipped her chin back, easing her worries with a kiss. Dinner would sound soon, but still Angela let Fareeha lay her on her back on the couch. Let her kiss over her shirt down her stomach. The touches were mild, muffled by the fabric between them, but Angela closed her eyes nonetheless. Fareeha trailed lower, nose brushing over her thighs where her shorts ended. Just as Angela was about to let dinner burn, Fareeha squeezed the muscle over her knee.

Just as Fareeha expected, Angela jolted from the tickle. What she didn’t expect was for her heel to come up and kick her right across the jaw. It was pure instinct, but it sent Fareeha reeling to the ground, clutching her already swelling jaw.

As furious as Angela was, she still crawled down on to the floor next to her lover and examined her injury.

“That was brutal,” Fareeha remarked as Angela gently pressed at the swelling.

“You know I didn’t mean it. And I’ve half a mind to say you deserved it.”

“Deserved it? I’m completely inno—ow!”

Angela pressed just a bit harder and clicked her tongue. “It’s not my fault you have a glass jaw.”


	10. Staff-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: More prompts coming ur way :D. Mercy is not actually helpless with the cadecus staff. In a desperate situation, she pulls off some deadly kungfu tricks with it, saving Pharah's life . :D :D :D Pharah: O___O

She couldn’t find Pharah. Angela threw her eyes to the sky and did not see her among the clouds, nor on the several various perches. She couldn’t hear the sounds of rocket blasts or jet packs. Her heart plummeted into her stomach despite her resolute expression. Still, for all of her masking, Reinhardt knew her far too well.

“I’ve got this,” he said with a wink. “Go and find her.”

Angela did not waste time, giving a single nod and racing back to where she’d last seen Pharah. She only hoped that she wasn’t too late.

–

She’d been stupid. She shouldn’t have gone after Reaper by herself. Call it justice all she wanted, she’d been arrogant, greedy. It wasn’t enough to chase him off the payload. And now she sat crumpled against the wall with a gaping wound in her gut. Reaper stood over her with that husky chuckle.

“What becomes of a bird when you clip its wings?”

Pharah rolled her eyes. Or perhaps, with her launcher kicked away and a hole in her stomach, she was just Fareeha. “Are you going to monologue me to death?”

Reaper tilted his hooded head. “Depends on how long you last.”

Fareeha snarled at him when she saw a flash of gold over her shoulder. Her eyes widened just a hair, and fear gripped her as Reaper turned. In a flash, Angela’s gun was swept away, clattering to the floor.

“Two birds,” he marveled, and they could both hear the smile in his voice, “one gun.”

With Angela’s life now in danger, Fareeha forced herself to stand. She’d die before she let that _thing_ near her. The distraction was just what Angela needed. As Reaper turned to order her back down, Angela ripped her staff from her back and brought it across his head. Reaper staggered back and Angela brought the staff across both hands, disarming him. She kicked the guns Fareeha’s way, just in case he made it past her, and held her staff up defensively.

Reaper growled low and just as Angela braced herself, he disappeared. The darkness lifted from the room and Angela turned, crouching by Fareeha’s side and healing her. The wound was deep, and it would take time. But she was safe.

“Got anymore tricks up your sleeve, doctor?” Fareeha asked with a grin.

Angela sighed in relief. If she could joke, she would be fine. Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to Fareeha’s cheek. “I was so worried.”

“I’m sorry,” Fareeha murmured, lifting her gloved hand to cup an angelic cheek. She wiped away the lone tear and smiled again. “What else can you do with that staff?”

Angela couldn’t help but smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”


	11. Slice of Life-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: slice of life pharmercy, having adopted hana and living happily together

Hana didn’t wake until around two in the afternoon. It was a Saturday, but still she was surprised that her mothers hadn’t come to wake her. They still didn’t quite understand this whole “professional gamer” gig after all. Didn’t understand that her hours were sporadic and intense to keep her skill up.

Curiosity with a hint of worry came over her as she rolled out of her cocoon of blankets. Making her way down the hall, her worry eased as she heard her mothers’ soft voices from the kitchen. Her socked feet were silent on the carpet as she stepped closer and peeked around the wall into the kitchen.

Angela, her adopted mother, leaned over the counter, stroking the cheek of her other adopted mother, Fareeha. Fareeha was tall and strong, the protector, the strength. Angela was softer, gentle love and compassion. And together they made up the family Hana thought she would never have. Still, despite the warmth in her heart, Hana couldn’t help but grimace as Fareeha leaned forward to kiss her wife.

Feeling eyes upon her, Angela opened her own and pulled away from Fareeha as she saw the girl standing in the hallway. “Well, look who’s finally up.”

Grateful for the break in affection, Hana strode into the kitchen and gratefully took the coffee Angela offered. It was Angela’s and therefore loaded with cream and sugar and caffeine just as she liked.

“I’m surprised you guys didn’t wake me,” Hana said as she took a sip.

“Apparently you were working,” Fareeha said, nudging her arm. “Nerf this, nerf that, lag sniffer.”

“Switcher, moms. Lag-switcher.”

“Well,” Angela said, walking around the counter to kiss Hana on the top of the head. “As long as you’re bringing home the bacon.”

Hana rolled her eyes but accepted the kiss. The prodigal surgeon brought home plenty of money on her own.

“Anyway, now that you’re up,” Fareeha said, rising from her seat, “we wanted to go to the movies. Care to join us.”

“Only if it’s Ninja Nunchucks 5.”

“One else would it be?” Fareeha asked, side-eying Angela who smiled. The blonde would never admit it, but she loved it as much as the other two.

“McDonalds after?”

“Sure.”

“Best. Moms. Ever.”


	12. Frisky-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: pharah being an injured but thirsty ho

It wasn’t entirely her fault. Nestled in a shop corner at the temple of Anubis, the sun caught Angela just right. It glinted off her haloed helm and brought out the shimmer of her hair. Transcended through the translucent wings to bleed warm light onto her skin. Angela was radiant, resplendent. And Fareeha was badly injured, so she might as well make the most of their time.

Angela’s face held a tight grimace of concentration that Fareeha smoothed out with a single touch. Her crooked finger trailed down a pale cheek, warm and slightly damp with sweat. Her angel smiled sweetly. But it was a professional smile. One she would give an unruly or too flirty patient.

“Just relax, Fareeha. Let it work.”

“Oh, it’s working. You’re beautiful, Angela.”

Angela laughed softly and shook her head. It was just like Fareeha to have the worst timing. This injury had been caused by diving too quickly into the fray, eager to use her rockets. The team had smoothed things over for now, but still she kept an ear turned behind her. Fareeha took advantage of Angela’s distraction and studied her form in the Valkyrie suit. It was skin tight to better mobility, and she trailed her eyes over her breasts, still large despite their compression. It wasn’t armor. Better than a tee shirt, Fareeha supposed, but not enough to protect her from what they dealt with. It was Fareeha’s job to do that. And she had, injuring herself by sprinting in when she saw her lover under attack.

Fareeha reached out again and laid a hand on Angela’s hip. Angela’s hips were wider than her petite frame, and Fareeha slid her hand up Angela’s side to trail over her breasts. Angela allowed it purely because it kept the soldier occupied while she worked. It certainly wasn’t the trail of electric warmth she left in her wake as her hands roamed.

“There. You’re good as new.”

“If not better,” Fareeha answered, sitting up on her knees. She was still taller than the crouched doctor and she smiled as she cupped her face in her hands. “Do I get a treat for being such a good patient?”

“You were a horrible patient, so no,” Angela countered. Fareeha opened her mouth to retort but Angela silenced it with a sweet kiss. All too short for either of their tastes but duty called. “But you do get one because I love you.”

Fareeha smiled. “Even better.”


	13. Reconciliation-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: pharmercy fight and make up afterwards

“Angela.”

The name is whispered in the quiet night. Crickets chirp outside and the moon casts a blue glow over her lover’s cheek. Despite the calm evening, the bedroom is tense. She touches Angela’s shoulder and slight shrug makes her quickly pull it away.

“Are you awake?”

Angela huffs but keeps her eyes closed. “I’m trying to sleep.”

Very rarely is Angela cruel. But even this is enough to make Fareeha set her jaw. It had been hours since the fight. They’d gone to bed angry, and though Angela still slept beside her, the coldness that radiated from her was enough to keep the soldier up.

“I’m sorry,” Fareeha says, warm breath brushing against Angela’s shoulder. “I should have listened to you.”

Angela sighs again. Fareeha watches her grip her pillow. “You’re only saying that to be done with it.”

“I’m not. I may have still made the same decision, but I should have at least listened. You’re a part of me. My choices are yours.”

Fareeha reaches for her shoulder again, and this time Angela does not shrug it off. “I can’t stand to have you angry with me.”

A smile touches Angela’s lips. “Then perhaps you shouldn’t disagree with me.”

Fareeha chuckles and with a gentle push Angela rolls over into her arms. “May I kiss you?” Fareeha asks, tracing a line down Angela’s nose.

“You never need to ask that, darling.”

Angela lifts her head from the pillow to meet Fareeha’s lips, because it’s been far too long. Fareeha brings her arms around her and holds her close, lips moving against each other as the tension finally melts away into the warm night. Sleep will finally come easily, but it’s the last thing on either of their minds.


	14. Good Talk-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: pharah comes out to ana

Across from her sits past, present and future. Questions and loneliness and love and…perhaps anger. All molded into a face she sees in the mirror every morning. A face she will soon become. Ana sits tall as a soldier does and sips her coffee methodically. Fareeha wonders if she has coffee every day. Does she have a ritual? Cream, sugar, black? Fareeha herself prefers tea and already it feels as if she’s failed.

Ana runs her fingers along the twines of her white braid before she tosses it over her shoulder. Everything she does is smooth, calculated, learned from longevity.  When she speaks, it’s a memory resurfaced, washing warmth and coldness all in one across Fareeha’s strong shoulders.

“There are no rules, Fareeha,” she chides in a tone that seems _too_ personal given their situation.

Fareeha adjusts in her seat. She too sits tall, taller than Ana, and drums her fingers on her thigh. “I know that.”

“You can ask me whatever you like.”

“I know that also.”

A silence follows. It follows until Ana’s coffee has gone cold.

“Very well,” she rasps, leaning forward and lacing her fingers together. “Then I shall ask. You’re not opposed, are you?”

“No, ma’am.”

The clinical tone strikes them both, and they fail to recognize that they mimic an awkward shuffle in the booth.

“Are you happy?”

The question strikes Fareeha off guard, but she gives a single nod. “Quite.”

“Good. Do you have someone in your life?”

“Yes.”

Ana’s eyes light up slightly. Her Fareeha seems like a serious woman. Perhaps more serious than she was at her age. It’s worrisome. Too often had Ana lost some of her life to work, to protecting. It’s nice to know she has someone to come home to, to keep her grounded, to make her smile. She hasn’t seen it yet, but Ana remembers it from when she was younger. Fareeha could light up a room with her smile, the world with her laugh.

“Who is the lucky man?”

Fareeha’s lips purse in what might be considered a smile. She lowers her head for a moment, then meets her mother’s eyes. She’s an adult, a grown woman, and though the near mirror image of Ana in front of her is intimidating, she would never dare be ashamed of her lover.

“Woman, mother. Lucky woman.”

There’s a brief flash of surprise but Ana quickly throws it behind a smile. “Forgive me. Who is the lucky woman?”

She has no problem with this. And even if she did, it is not her place to say. Fareeha feels some of the tension melt at that. At least, in this regard, she has nothing to fear.

“Dr. Ziegler.”

The guffaw surprises them both. Ana throws her head back, her raspy voice humming with rhythm as she laughs. It’s contagious, and Fareeha finds herself smiling as well, teeth and all. It’s even more beautiful than Ana remembered.

“Oh goodness, she will never hear the end of it,” Ana says as she wipes her eyes.

Fareeha nods. “She said you might say something like that.”

“She knows me well. Tell me, how is Angela?”

They share a smile this time, and through their friend and lover, find some common ground. The first of many soon to come.


	15. Shirts-E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: angela wearing one of fareeha's shirts with nothing underneath ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

As Fareeha stepped into the kitchen one Saturday morning, she was gifted with a glorious sight. Angela stood on her tiptoes, reaching for a coffee cup, wearing nothing but Fareeha’s worn shirt. The shirt itself was nothing more than a rag, gray with bleach spots spattered about, the faded emblem of a logo she couldn’t even remember on the front in bright yellow. But on Angela, it was stunning.

She started at her feet, lifted up onto the balls. Angela had a lovely arch and rather small feet that Fareeha found endlessly cute. Eyes trailed upward to sculpted calves, muscles flexed as she reached, and further still to wide, strong thighs. The soldier leaned against the doorway and smiled softly as Angela reached one arm up. The shirt came up with her, and Fareeha was gifted again. This time with the sight of Angela’s ass.

Angela didn’t like the word ‘ass.’ She thought it lewd. But Fareeha was positively lewd in this moment as she stared at her rounded backside, pale and immaculate. Her teeth itched to bite into in, to grip it in her large hands and make Angela moan her name. And indeed, what was stopping her?

Just as she grasped her coffee mug, Angela felt the warm, strong presence of Fareeha behind her. Fareeha hugged her close and pushed her against the counter, hands roaming over Angela’s taut abdomen.

“Good morning to you, too,” Angela said, dipping her head back and over to give Fareeha more room.

Dark lips skimmed the tendons of her neck as the hands on her stomach drifted lower. They passed the hem of Angela’s shirt and trailed back up beneath. Angela gasped as Fareeha gripped her breasts, toying the nipples to hardness as she nibbled on her earlobe.

“You are so fucking hot,” Fareeha breathed against her skin.

The soldier was normally composed, eloquent, and rarely cursed. It drove Angela all the wilder as she pushed back against Fareeha’s hips. Fareeha herself, was gorgeous as well. Angela ran her hands up the muscled forearms before back down, turning her head to see as much of Fareeha as she could. Onyx hair and eyes like home, sun kissed skin that radiated warmth. Wrapped in her arms Angela closed her eyes and gave herself over to this indulgence. Fareeha’s hands were calculated in their movements, touching all the right spots. To say nothing of her lips which traipsed across her skin, teeth following intermittently.

By the time Fareeha’s hand slid between her hands, she was welcomed with wetness. A heady chuckle escaped and Angela moaned quietly, head tilted back onto Fareeha’s shoulder as she began to stroke her clit. With her free hand Fareeha turned Angela’s head to meet her in a kiss. She sampled the moans from her lover and tasted desire on her tongue. But she kept her pace firm. Steady and resolute. For all her protests, Angela liked the build. She spread her legs a bit wider and brought her arms over her head, around Fareeha’s neck to tangle in her hair. She moaned the soldier’s name like a prayer and Fareeha answered by pushing just a touch harder.

When she grew close, Angela tipped over onto the counter, using it for leverage to grind against Fareeha’s touch. Fareeha fisted the ratty shirt and pulled it tight, lifting it to expose Angela’s lovely back. Angela gripped the counter and cried out once more before she came. Fareeha stroked her through the aftershocks and leaned over to kiss along her neck.

“Good morning,” she breathed when Angela finally calmed.


	16. Caught-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: ana catches pharah and mercy making out in the med bay and never lets her live it down

The woman had a sex radar. Or perhaps a pre-sex radar. Either way, when Ana stormed into the med bay one morning in search of Tylenol she was greeted with an interesting sight.

The prodigal doctor was on her exam room bed, legs wrapped around none other than Ana’s own daughter. Lips pulled away from each other with wet smacks as Ana made sure both women were indeed clothed. Along Angela’s pale neck she could see love marks blooming, and both women had swollen lips.

A rather intense physical, it would seem. Fareeha turned quickly, expertly sliding Angela’s panties from her ankles and stuffing them into her pocket.

“Mother. Hello.”

“Ladies. I didn’t mean to intrude,” Ana replied. Though the devious smile on her face told that she was not at all upset about it. Angela turned a lovely shade of pink when caught, and this time was no different as Ana began to count off on her fingers. “Two weeks ago it was the kitchen, then out in the lawn, against a hallway, and now the med bay. Is no place safe?”

“From you? Apparently not,” Fareeha snapped half-playfully.

“You have heard of locks, haven’t you?”

Fareeha was about to retort when Angela stepped in, straightening her skirt. “Ana. Is there something you need? Are you feeling well?”

“Just a minor headache. I can take care of myself. Thank you, doctor.”

Angela and Fareeha glanced awkwardly at each other as Ana grabbed her pills and downed them without water. She turned with that same grin as she headed towards the door. “I’ll see you at dinner. Oh, and make sure you return Angela’s panties to her, Fareeha.”

The sound Angela made nearly shattered the windows.


	17. Language-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Pharmercy love on first sight but with a huge language barrier. Lots of shy smiles, gestures and small gifts? :D Bonus if they actually get far enough to kiss in the end.

The last place Angela expected to make a friend was the airport. But as she stood in line to buy an overpriced bottle of water, fate seemed to bring them together. Literally. Trying to bypass someone who was clearly running late, Fareeha had side-stepped and nearly knocked the blonde over. She reacted quickly, catching Angela before she fell and righting her. The bottle of water clattered to the floor and they nearly bumped heads scrambling for it.

“Sorry,” they said simultaneously.

Both of their accents were thick, foreign, and they mirrored each other as they tilted heads. Then they smiled at the quirk and Angela nodded as she took the offered bottle. The woman before her was tall with broad shoulders, biceps straining beneath her t-shirt. Her jet black hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and dark eyes shimmered in the fluorescents.

Fareeha stood a head taller than this woman, petite and pale but lovely. The cream colored turtleneck suggested she came from somewhere colder, or had perhaps anticipated the blizzard that currently had all flights grounded. Realizing they’d both been caught staring, they shared an awkward laugh.

“English?” Angela offered.

Fareeha shook her head. “Little.”

Angela shrugged, surprised at how disappointed she was, and pointed to the bottle. “Thank you.”

“Ah,” Fareeha answered, for she did know that phrase. “Welcome.” Fareeha then pointed at her chest. “Egypt.”

“Oh! Switzerland.”

“Fareeha.”

“Angela.”

 _“I suddenly wish I knew more English_ ,” Fareeha murmured in Arabic. Angela, of course, could not understand this but she nodded politely anyway and pulled her boarding pass from her purse. Fareeha examined it and noted with a rush that their gates were across from each other. With a gentle smile, she extended her arm and found herself more than pleased when Angela took it. Flights were cancelled, and travel to hotels was suspended until the snow let up. For the next few hours, they were trapped. Might as well have some company.

They walked along the airport terminal, passing time by stopping in every shop. Fareeha laughed when she placed a huge set of headphones on Angela’s head at Bose at made her blush. Angela got revenge by cooing at Fareeha in a pair of Ray Bans at Sunglass Hut and watching her cheeks redden. They shared a smoothie at Jamba Juice, both pleased to find that they favored strawberry banana. And when Angela laughed again at a silly face Fareeha made, she reached over and placed her hand on Fareeha’s knee. Fareeha knew little more than Angela’s name and smoothie preference, but she let the hand stay, going so far as to place hers over it.

 _“I wonder what you’re thinking,”_ Angela said as they sat on a bench and watched the people stroll by.

_“I’m going to pretend you just told me that you think I’m cute.”_

_“Hopefully that was ‘I’m having a great time.’”_

They smiled at each other again and Angela leaned her head over onto Fareeha’s shoulder. Perhaps it was the spontaneity of it all. Or perhaps she dared herself to believe in fate. But there was no place Angela would rather be than stranded at this airport with this lovely stranger. Fareeha. Fareeha who smelled of oranges and spice and clean clothes. Whose hand was calloused perhaps from hard labor or infantry. Angela traced the lines in her palm and tapped her finger against a hardened spot.

Fareeha seemed to understand, for her opened her bag and pulled out a military jacket. Angela’s eyes widened and she quickly dug into her purse, pulling out an ID. Fareeha couldn’t make out much of the English on it, but she did understand the “Dr.” and “MD.”

_“I could make so many puns about this. They’d make you laugh. You seem like the type to like puns.”_

_“I suppose one bonus to the language barrier is that you can’t make stupid doctor puns.”_

_“Excuse me, doctor. I think you’ve stopped my heart.”_

_“Then again, coming from you they might not be so bad.”_

When people watching grew boring they walked around again. Fareeha tugged Angela back to Bose and surprised her by buying her the headphones. Angela protested vehemently but all she got in response was a heavily accented, “Sorry, no understand.”

To get her revenge, Angela dragged Fareeha back to Sunglass Hut and bought the Ray Bans. Both blushing and giddy they found a food cart and indulged on candies and snacks and drinks they hadn’t had since they were children. Sitting at an abandoned gate, Fareeha watched with a smile as Angela, headphones on her ears but no music playing, popped M&Ms into her mouth. Angela winked at her reflection in Fareeha’s glasses and when Fareeha opened her mouth, she tossed a blue one in.

_“You have good aim.”_

_“You have a big mouth.”_

They both laughed, the sound of each other’s voices calming even if they could not be understood.

Despite being in an airport, time passed, and eventually the flights began to move again. Angela sighed sadly as Fareeha walked her to her gate and clutched onto the soldier’s arm.

 _“I don’t want to leave this stupid airport,”_ she spoke.

_“I’m scared at how much I miss you already.”_

When they arrived at the gate, they were already boarding. Angela turned to look at Fareeha and the sadness in those blue eyes nearly sent her to her knees. Angela shook her head and reached into her purse, pulling out a pen. Fareeha’s eyes widened and she quickly searched her belongings, finding a receipt from the food card. She couldn’t contain her smile as she watched Angela write down her phone number and email, and squeezed her hand when Angela placed it back in her own.

_“Call me sometime. Even I don’t understand, I like the sound of your voice.”_

_“The next time you hear from me, I’ll be fluent in something you speak. I promise.”_

They still couldn’t know what each other said, but both of their hearts calmed at the words. This wasn’t an end, but a beginning. As they announced the final boarding call, Angela leapt up onto her toes and kissed the side of Fareeha’s cheek. She turned to leave then, to run and hide her shame at her impulsiveness, but was pulled back by those strong, calloused hands.

Fareeha did not kiss her deeply. Just a lingering peck. But it was enough for now. A promise of more, distance and language be damned. Angela was pink as she pulled away, and she backed up to the ticket counter, holding Fareeha’s gaze until forced to turn around. Fareeha stood and watched the plane take off. When Angela was out of sight, she made her way to the nearest bookstore, and bought a book on English.


	18. Touch-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Pharmercy! Angela, having lost her parents at a young age, loves to be touched. Pharah observes this. Doesnt have to be nsfw, I miss fanfics on the sort of intimacy you can have without it being sex.

She noticed it on their first date. When she placed her palm over Angela’s, the good doctor sighed. Fareeha feared rejection, but saw only peace in Angela’s lovely face. Eyes closed, her pale fingers slid along Fareeha’s skin as if she’d never felt the touch of another.

Now, when their dates have long lost count, Fareeha understands. When she finds Angela prepping lunch in the kitchen, she pressed against her back, arms folding around Angela’s waist and holding her close. Angela will give that same sigh, head falling back to rest on Fareeha’s shoulder. Fareeha will hum and slide her hands down Angela’s forearms, guiding them into finishing the prep. Angela nuzzles her cheek against Fareeha’s and upon hearing a soft whimper, the soldier will turn her head for a sweet kiss.

After lunch Fareeha will recline on the couch and open her arms to Angela, who falls into them. She lays between Fareeha’s long legs, head resting on her chest as her fingers tap to the beat of her heart. Fareeha traces designs in Angela’s back and laughs when she tries–and fails– to guess what they are.

Kisses stolen between sips of tea and chapters of a book. 

Massaging thighs and stomachs.

Nuzzling cheek to cheek.

When Angela crawls into her lap for a third time, Fareeha suspects something is wrong. But she simply gives Angela what she wants, and is greeted with that smile so bright that sometimes she has to look away. 

In the evening, Fareeha is woken from her slumber by those same fingers gliding along her bicep. They don’t need words anymore, and without question Fareeha turns and cradles Angela in her arms. Muffled sobs against her chest indicate another bad dream. An affliction Fareeha knows all too well, but this is not about her. She hushes Angela and entwines their legs, desperate to be closer. Angela grips at her collarbone and finds respite in that ever calm beating heart.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs once the tears have stopped.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“So needy…”

“Never,” Fareeha commands. She knows the stories now. How Angela grew up alone and outcast, too young to engage with others of her group. How she came home to an empty house that used to be filled with her parents’ love. Fareeha cannot replace them. But she can try to make up for love lost. She rolls them to where she’s on top of Angela, and buries her face in her neck. “You know I’m yours.”

Angela’s arms wrap tightly around her back, fingers digging into supple muscle. Fareeha knows she will be okay when she hears that content sigh. She kisses her neck and trails her lips down her sternum. Lifts her shirt and presses a kiss to her navel before resting her head on it. She loves to grab Angela’s sides, so petite they fit in her grasp. And Angela feels protected when does. Safe. Warm. Loved. Hands run through Fareeha’s hair until they tug her upward for a grateful kiss.

“Ready for bed?” Fareeha whispers, eyes already falling shut. Angela nods and turns, snuggling her back against Fareeha’s front. Fareeha wedges her hand between Angela and the mattress, the other coming over top to keep her there.

“I love you,” murmurs Angela just before she falls asleep.

“And I you,” Fareeha returns, following shortly after.


	19. Firsts-M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Prompt: Pharmercy making love for the first time with a nervous Pharah and a patient and slightly amused Mercy. Bonus is there is a morning after fluff scene! :D

Fareeha couldn’t believe she was here. Nestled between Angela’s legs, she pulls back from heated kissing to take a breath. Angela smiles, eyes opening slowly, and regards Fareeha. Her eyes are clenched, nostrils flaring with each heavy breath, and the doctor tilts her head in concern. Fareeha opens her eyes when she feels a warm palm against her cheek, and her heart rests and relaxes simultaneously in an action that makes her jolt forward.

“Fareeha.”

She doesn’t need to say anymore. Fareeha feels the concern in her touch, sees the question in her eyes. Dipping her head, she trails her eyes down a pale and slender neck. Her hand lifts to rest between Angela’s breasts, not daring yet to touch, and Angela can feel her palm shaking.

“If you don’t want—

“No,” Fareeha says with such conviction it startles them both “No,” softer this time, “I want to.” She shakes her head and sighs as she roams over Angela’s nude form again. “So badly.”

“But?” Angela tries, a smile at the corner of her mouth.

“But I…what if…” Fareeha sighs it away. Really she’s acting like a teenager. But Angela is so beautiful, so wonderful, anything less than perfect is unworthy of her. And it’s been some time.

“Fareeha.”

The name pulls Fareeha from her thoughts. She focuses on the pale finger that crooks and beckons her closer. “Come here, darling. I want to feel you.”

Fareeha smiles at that and gently rests more of her weight onto the smaller woman. Angela’s arms come around the back of her neck and pull her down for another kiss. Their lips mold together easily, and Angela hums into Fareeha’s mouth. Fareeha relaxes slightly, as the doctor hoped she would, and dares her tongue across Angela’s lips. When Angela’s lips part to accept Fareeha delves hungrily inside. Her palms slide up and down Angela’s sides, across her thighs and back up to dig into her hips. Angela feels Fareeha’s hunger growing and responds with a lift of her hips.

The kiss breaks with another sigh from Fareeha. Followed by a soft giggle from Angela. Fareeha raises a sculpted brow at her would-be lover. “You find this amusing?”

“Somewhat,” Angela answers with a smile, fingertips trailing down Fareeha’s chest before gently toying with her nipples. “You’re usually so assured, so confident.”

“I just…want to be good for you.”

Angela’s amusement softens a bit into compassion. “You’re already good for me.” A brief, calming kiss is shared between them before Angela chuckles once more.

“You really know how to make a woman feel her age.”

Fareeha’s eyes widen before setting in the determination Angela is used to seeing from Pharah. She leans closer until their noses brush, mouth set in a firm line. “You are beautiful,” she commands, following it up with a kiss to Angela’s sternum.

“Exquisite,” as she drags her lips down her stomach. “Perfect,” when she nips at her inner thigh. “Mine,” she says before pressing her lips to Angela’s sex.

Angela gasps at the tongue, as proficient as she knew it would be, and buried her hand in Fareeha’s hair. Whatever nerves Fareeha had felt were long since gone.

When she wakes in the morning, it was to the smell of coffee. Rising slowly in her sheets, Angela blinks her eyes open to find Fareeha on the edge of the bed, two steaming mugs in hand. She is still naked, and Angela feels a renewed surge of want at the muscles of her back, the way her shoulder blade twists when the soldier turns and hands her a cup.

“Feeling better, darling?” Angela asks before taking a sip.

“Much,” Fareeha answers, following Angela’s sip up with a kiss. “Thank you. For everything.”

Angela chuckles. “Would you still thank me if I said ‘my pleasure?’”

Fareeha rolls her eyes but can’t stop the soft giggle that emerges. “Are you always so playful?”

Angela pouts and leans forward to rest her head on Fareeha’s muscled thigh. “Would you rather me be the serious, professional Dr. Ziegler?”

In a surprising show of flexibility, Fareeha bends down to kiss her again. “I don’t know. That could be hot.”

Angela laughs then, nearly spilling her mug of coffee. She sits up to set it on the end table and shakes her head at the soldier. Her soldier. Her Fareeha. Her lover. “Where did this newfound confidence come from?”

“From you,” Fareeha answered, kissing her chin. “And lucky for you, it’s here to stay.”


	20. Morning-E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: pharmercy sleepy morning sex

Mornings were their favorites. Lazy mornings where Fareeha would militantly wake first and pull Angela into her arms. Angela, a light sleeper, would hum and snuggle tighter against her arms. When she woke further, she would turn and greet Fareeha with a short kiss. Always close mouthed, for the doctor had a phobia of bad breath. Fareeha didn’t mind, and accepted the close mouthed pecks eagerly. There was nothing quite like Angela in the morning. Warm from the sheets and smelling of sleep. Angela would say the same of Fareeha. Mussed hair and loose muscles, subtle spice of sweat. Mornings were everything.

So when Angela slides her thigh between Fareeha’s it’s more than welcome. They both moan softly, Angela from the wetness and Fareeha from the pressure. Angela leans forward in Fareeha’s arms and nestles in her neck. Fareeha tilts her head to give her more room and sighs when Angela nips at a tender spot by her pulse. Her hips rock easily, lazily, and she relishes in Angela’s satisfied mewls. When she craves a bit more, Fareeha slides her thigh between Angela’s own, and the two of them rock in time against the other.

Angela’s hair is tangled from a hard night’s sleep, but Fareeha weaves her fingers through anyway, scratching the scalp and working through knots. Angela leans forward and bites gently on Fareeha’s shoulder to stifle the soft moan. Fareeha smiles against her cheek, hands reaching around to grip her from behind. Angela’s hips are wide and full and they never fail to drive Fareeha wild. Especially her ass, where she kneads the cheeks while helping Angela to grind.

Tensing her thigh, Angela lifts it and pushed it harder against Fareeha. She is growing close, and she wants Fareeha with her as she falls. Nails rake down Fareeha’s back, just enough pain to make it exquisite. Fareeha cries out softly and finds Angela’s ear, where she breathes and moanes into it as Angela likes. The two of them speed up their rhythms together, lips spreading and hands searching and gripping for more. Angela comes first, body tensing and shuddering, and it’s the soft German swear imparted from her lips that that tips Fareeha over the edge as well. Hips slowly still, but otherwise they remain entwined, panting and sweating in the knotted up sheets.

“Good morning,” Fareeha says finally, kissing Angela’s temple.

“Good morning,” Angela answers. And slowly, they both fall back to sleep.


	21. Enchanting-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: have you considered mage Angela and templar Fareeha? everything needs a DA AU

Fareeha strode the halls of the circle tower with the rigid posture of a disciplined soldier. Her armor groaned and clanked, heavy on her shoulders, and she liked it that way. Armor meant safety, protection. Her eyes, hawk like in their observation, watched everything without seeming too obvious. She knew her title: to protect the mages. It was simple, and yet some of her colleagues seemed to take a loose interpretation. Lately, with shame, she’d been protecting the mages more from fellow Templars than from demons.

As she strode into the library, a familiar sight caught her eye. Angela, a mage with a near prodigal mind in healing magic, sat with just the company of a lone candle and a book. Angela was a loner, too old for the incoming mages and too young for the mages that shared her intellect. Whether she minded this isolation or not, Fareeha couldn’t tell. The young woman always had her head buried in an ancient tome of something or another. Her blonde hair often fell over her eyes when she read, and Fareeha admitted quietly to herself that she liked the way the mage ran her fingers through it to push it back.

She hadn’t realized she’d stepped closer until Angela lifted her head, blue eyes concerned before they softened at the sight of the Templar. “Fareeha, hello.”

Fareeha dipped her head politely as she struggled to find words. “Angela. Reading, I see?”

Angela turned the book for Fareeha to examine the title and sighed even as she smiled. “I admit it’s a little dull, even for me.”

Fareeha smiled. Angela was lovely. Pale with blue eyes, plump lips, and a smile that could charm Andraste. She definitely shouldn’t be here. Instead of turning away like her instincts begged, she stepped closer.

“It would seem you’re always reading.”

“I’m here to learn, am I not?”

“Surely there are other, more interesting ways to learn.”

Angela’s eyes sparkled, a sculpted brow lifted as she examined the Templar. Fareeha was tall and powerful, a true source of safety for the mages here. Her dark eyes shimmered in the light of the candle, and she wondered at the meaning of the tattoo under her eye. Her jaw was strong and on the rare occasion when she smiled, it was brighter than any candle.

“What, exactly, do you think I’m trying to learn, Templar?” she asked with a grin.

Fareeha’s eyes went wide. She hadn’t meant to flirt, but clearly Angela took it as such. She couldn’t blame her. Words were not the templar’s strong suit. But she couldn’t deny the way her heart raced when Angela looked at that. It broke so many rules. She was supposed to protect them.

“I, um, I didn’t mean to imply—

“You didn’t?” Angela tilted her head in an adorable fashion, the book long forgotten. They were alone in the late evening, and the candle was starting to gutter. It flickered across Angela’s soft cheekbones, and Fareeha didn’t want to see those lovely pink lips part, but she did. And she would swear it was the mage’s magic that drew her closer. Something she had never been trained to resist.

“What I mean is, um, I…you…Maker…”

Angela smiled, eyes half lidded and pressed a single fingertip beneath Fareeha’s chin. It compelled her forward, armor unbearably loud in the quiet of the library, and when their lips brushed, it was sweeter than any lyrium. It was a quick kiss, tempered by fear of getting caught. Fareeha pulled away, wide eyed, and only Angela’s soft laugh could bring her out of her thoughts.

“Thank you, Templar,” she said as she grabbed her book and blew out the candle, “for making learning all the more interesting. Perhaps we’ll do it again sometime.”

Gently flicking the tip of Fareeha’s nose, Angela turned and made her way to the dorms, leaving the Templar with a fluttering heart in the dark.


	22. Exploration-E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Holy shit your pharmercy fics are The best I've ever read. I'm not entirely sure if you do requests or stuff but if you do could you do a pharmercy trying new things and being a little kinky (nsfw of course).

They started off slowly: making love somewhere other than the bedroom. It ended up being against the wall in the laundry room, Angela pressed between Fareeha and the wall. They loved it. Angela loved the constant strength of her lover as she supported her, the weightless feeling. Fareeha could not get as deeply inside of her as she liked, but the newness more than made up for that. Fareeha enjoyed seeing Angela’s head knock back against the wall, the bumping of their hips that was sure to annoy the neighbors. She enjoyed pushing her muscles to the limits as she supported her lover with one hand and made love to her with the other.

Ice play came next. Mei’s recommendation, no doubt. Angela straddled Fareeha and slowly dragged the ice down her torso. Fareeha hissed, hips rocking beneath Angela, muscles clenching. Angela groaned at the sight of the hard earned muscle straining against her palm. She took another cube and placed it in her mouth while continuing to let the other one melt on Fareeha’s skin. When her mouth was plenty chilled, she leaned over and circled a nipple with her tongue. Fareeha cried out softly, hands threading through blonde tresses to keep her close.

Angela giggled against her skin, reaching blindly for another cube to circle Fareeha’s other nipple. The contrast of temperature had her nerves firing rapidly, seeking warmth and finding only the jolt of cold. Her hips rocked of their own accord, very much heated and aching for Angela. When she finally did arrive, Fareeha had been in so much bliss she didn’t realize that Angela had placed more ice in her mouth. Her tongue was near frozen when it touched her swollen clit. Fareeha cried out, hips bucking against chilled lips as Angela lapped at her. Angela’s nails raked hot scorch marks down her stomach that she followed quickly with soothing ice, all the while still working her tongue over Fareeha’s clit. When Fareeha came, it was blinding, a rush of senses, goosebumps and sweat and shivers and pants, all culminating in one exquisite rapture. Angela lifted herself with a smile and held her lover’s gaze as she wiped her mouth.

“Well, I think we found something you enjoy.”

They found Angela’s some time later. Trying out a new position with their strap on, Angela was on all fours on the bed. Fareeha gripped her hips and kept a firm but steady pace. Angela’s moans were in beats of the thrust, hair up in her signature ponytail, muscles of her back flexed. But what appealed to her the most was Angela’s ass. Rounded and thick, she loved the way it bounced against her hips, the way the cock disappeared and reappeared with each thrust. She wanted to sink her teeth into it, but she settled for a slap instead. Soft, open palmed, in echoed through the room. Angela jolted at the sudden rush of pain that started in her ass and spread directly to her core. She groaned and threw her head back, blue eyes searching for Fareeha’s own.

“Again.”

Fareeha smiled and smacked the other cheek and was grazed with a lovely cry from Angela. “Again.” Over and over she slapped Angela’s ass, but the gentility that she normally relished from Fareeha was proving difficult. She needed more. Whimpering as she bucked against the dildo, Angela turned her head and faced Fareeha with a look that nearly made her come on the spot.

“Harder,” growled out through clenched teeth. Fareeha could only obey, increasing the force of the slap. Angela’s ass was already red and heated, but the blonde didn’t seem to care. Only cried out a soft, “Yes,” and begged for more.

“Harder, harder,” she continued with each slap. Fareeha licked her lips. She was a strong woman, and she feared hurting Angela. Sweet, soft Angela who continued to surprise her every day. Growing frustrated, Angela brought her own hand behind her and dragged her nails down her ass. Deep, red marks that prickled slightly with blood. “Make it bleed,” she commanded.

Fareeha groaned at that, instinctively responding with a slap so rough it jolted Angela forward. But she didn’t stop there. She reached for Angela’s ponytail, fisting the hair and digging at the scalp, pulling her head back. Angela clenched tightly around the cock inside of her, her orgasm building as pain and pleasure surged through her body. Fareeha pulled and pulled, lifting Angela onto her knees until her back was against Fareeha’s front. Fareeha continued to pound inside of her, one hand pulling her hair while the other went around front to tease her clit. Angela’s cries were nearly consistent now, constant as her body responded. Fareehe was surprised at how much it turned her on as well. To use Angela in such a way and find that Angela enjoyed it. She only ever wanted to make her happy. And she smiled against her skin before sinking her teeth into Angela’s shoulder.

When she tasted blood, Angela came. Cries and gasps and desperate bucking, she came for what seemed like hours. Fareeha continued to bite and pull and thrust until her orgasm finally subsided. She let Angela go and the blonde toppled forward, exhausted onto the bed. The cock slid out of her and Fareeha was quick to remove it and head to the kitchen. She returned with ice and a rag and gently tended to Angela’s swollen and bruised ass while her lover recovered.

“Are you okay, darling?” she whispered when Angela’s breathing finally calmed.

Angela turned and graced her with a lovely, familiar smile. “I’m wonderful. Thank you.”

“Thank you. I think we found something you enjoy as well.”

Angela chuckled and lifted herself up to turn around and examine her ass. She winced playfully as she saw it and removed what was left of her ponytail, blonde hair cascading down over her shoulder. “Perhaps, for my own safety, it should be done sparingly.”

Fareeha chuckled and leaned over to kiss her. It was gentle, as Fareeha always and would be. Angela never need fear it. “Whatever you want.”


	23. Lost and Found-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: If you're still doing prompts: Pharah and Mercy investigate rumors of a Omnic base in the forests of Germany, but just find Bastion (like a follow-up to The Last Bastion).

“This doesn’t seem like an omnic base,” Fareeha commented quietly as she pushed a branch out of her face. She held it after she passed for Angela to pass through. The blonde hummed softly and checked her radar.

“It used to be. Before…” she drifted, never fond of being reminded of her age. Fareeha caught it, however, and glanced back at her with a wink that eased Angela’s nerves. She extended her hand and Angela took it, glad to have an escort through all of this foliage.

“What happened during—

Fareeha’s words were cut short as they stepped into a forest clearing. It was not natural. Trees blasted away, the ground disturbed, scorch marks. Fareeha’s stance immediately went on the defensive, a hand pressed out in front of Angela to keep her behind. Angela gripped her staff and followed behind the soldier, watching her back and listening for signs of danger. When the immediate area was cleared, Fareeha turned to Angela and flicked her eyes to the sky. Angela nodded, and they shared a glance before Fareeha rocketed upward to scope on higher ground. Angela watched from below, ready to fly up for assistance if need be.

It was when she heard an all too familiar beeping behind her. Angela stiffened, the staff groaning at her grip. An omnic was behind her. She hadn’t heard those sounds in years, but they were unmistakable. A turret pointed at her back, it would shred both her and Fareeha’s armor in moments. It was the reason she stayed silent. She wouldn’t risk Fareeha getting caught in the fire. It beeped again. Perhaps she’d accepted her death and was at peace, but for some reason it sounded…chipper. Steeling her spine, Angela turned around

It took her a moment to realize that what she was looking at was in fact an omnic. It was covered in moss and flowers, a bird’s nest perched precariously on its shoulder. Said bird rested on its head, and it did not seem to mind the speck of bird poop on its head or in its optic.

 _“Wee-o, wee-o.”_ It’s ‘hand’ lifted in a raised motion. Angela slowly lifted her own in an awkward wave. The bird chirped and the omnic beeped. She wasn’t out of the woods yet, so to speak, but her curiosity was piqued.

“Hello?” she asked.

The omnic tilted its head, but before any sort of response could be made, a concussive blast blew them both apart. Angela flew back, unharmed, and watched Fareeha descend elegantly in front of her, rocket cannon raised at the omnic. It received the brunt of the blow, and was currently trying to stand again. Angela could see the fire in her eyes, the will to protect her loved one at all costs, and it took all of her strength to stand on shaky legs and pull her arm down.

“Wait,” she said quietly. Fareeha’s eyes flicked to her, and though she raised her cannon again, she did not fire.

The two watched quietly as the omnic shuffled around on the ground for a moment, searching for something. Upon finding it, it beeped happily and Angela watched him lift the bird’s nest back onto his shoulder. Mere moments later, the bird returned to its place on its head.

“I think it’s different,” Angela whispered.

“It could be a trap.”

“They were mindless,” Angela countered. “This one clearly is not.”

Unafraid, she stepped forward again, waiting until the omnic noticed her before gesturing to the trees. “Did you do this?”

The omnic dipped its head and reached down, fetching a small stick which it handed to the bird. Angela nodded and glanced back at Fareeha. Fareeha sighed, because she knew when Angela made that look, there was no changing her mind.

“Come,” Angela said in her most professional tone. “Let’s get you out of the woods.”

The omnic beeped and somehow, Angela understood. “Yes, the bird can come, too.”


	24. Lingo-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Pharmercy family promp: Angela is surprisingly wellversed in gamer lingo while talking to Hana. Fareeha: o.o

“So he’s _totally_ using an aim bot, right? Fricken noob. And he’s got some sort of mod to reduce his recharge time. I use my launch for a boost and, bam, no scoped. He totally rage quit after I said gg.”

It may as well have been Swiss German to Fareeha, who shook her head as she made her way to the kitchen. Hana must have had a friend over. It would only be polite introduce herself (and embarrass Hana, as a good mother should).

But as she stepped into the kitchen, she found only Hana and her wife engaged in conversation. Angela smiled as Hana preened on whatever it was she just said, and Fareeha felt her mouth fall open when Angela said, “Did you report him for the aim bot? And the lag switcher?”

“Both blocked and reported.”

Angela beamed again and lifted her hand which Hana quickly high-fived. Fareeha must have made a noise for they both turned at the same time and greeted her. Hana lifted her head in a jerking motion while Angela grinned and held out her hand. Fareeha quickly took it and they shared a brief kiss. “I didn’t know you spoke video game,” she commented as she pulled away.

Hana scoffed. “Mom averages a 3.4 K/D, are you kidding me?”

Fareeha’s expression told them both that she didn’t understand so Angela took her hand and led her into the living room. “Come and sit and Hana and I will educate you on how to wreck blueberries.”

“Blue…berries?”

Hana and Angela both laughed and the sight of them happy was all Fareeha needed.


	25. Interruptions-M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: All pharmercy want is some sexytimes...but ana keeps interrupting by accident

Angela grinned up at Fareeha, lips swollen from their kissing and pale cheeks heated. Her hips rocked idly against Fareeha’s own, eager, ready. Still, feeling impish, Fareeha leaned down until their lips touched when she spoke.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

It was a breath of a moan and Fareeha shuddered at the sound. She had Angela right where she wanted. Desperate, wanting. She kissed her sweetly, hand roaming over lean abs as it traveled downward. She’d only barely touched Angela when a husky voice sounded through the door, startling them both.

“Fareeha? Are you awake?”

Fareeha groaned, head dipping to Angela’s shoulder, where it shook as the woman beneath her chuckled.

“Yes, mother?”

“Is this your leftover chicken?”

“You can have it!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” Fareeha shouted in frustration. As Ana’s footsteps disappeared down the hall Angela’s hand came up to caress Fareeha, to calm her frustration. Tempers had been high since Ana moved in, and Angela had been the calm between the two Amari storms as they tried to get used to each other.

“Hey,” Angela cooed, bringing those dark eyes back to her, “I’m still waiting.”

Fareeha smiled at that, her mother forgotten as she began to move her hand again. Angela gasped at the touch and started to move. Their eyes locked, passion intense.

“Angela, you’re—

“Fareeha!”

Fareeha growled, throwing her head to the door. “ _What?_ ”

“There’s no need to be testy. Your microwave doesn’t work.”

“It does work!”

“Does not.”

“It does—

“Ana,” Angela called sweetly. “Just hit the power button and then the start button.”

“Thank you, Angela,” Ana cooed back, clearly insulting her daughter with her tone. They heard her disappear again and Angela immediately resumed rocking her hips. It didn’t take long for Fareeha to get back into their moment. As Angela neared what she hoped was the first of multiple orgasms, Ana interrupted once again.

“Faree—

“No!” Fareeha shouts, using her anger to fuel her thrusts into Angela. Angela bites desperately on her hand to keep quiet as Fareeha unleashes on her “No, mother, do it yourself! We are…trying to sleep!”

Theres a pause, followed by a short, “Fine.”

Fareeha huffed and turned back to Angela. She _would_ get this done. She would give Angela the pleasure she had so desired. She will—

“I smell smoke,” Angela said suddenly, lifting.

Fareeha turned her head and sure enough, she smelled it as well. Forgetting her nudity, she flung herself off the bed and raced out the door to the microwave. Ana glimpsed at her daughter’s naked backside before peering into the bedroom and spotting a naked Angela on the bed. She huffed, pleased.

“I knew you weren’t sleeping.”

“Did you have to burn the house down to prove your point?” Fareeha shouted from the kitchen.

Ana shrugged, winking at Angela. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have been so short with me.”

Neither of the Amaris realized that it was Angela who suffered the most.


	26. Addition-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: angela is pregnant with fareeha's biological child and hana is anticipating the newest member of their family and asks way too many questions (what they will name the baby etc)

Hana sat on the couch with her fingers folded. Her gaming controller had long since turned off, her focus having switched to the swell of her mother’s stomach. It wasn’t much, just a few months’ worth, but Angela was so trim to begin with, it was easily noticeable.

“You sure you don’t wanna know if it’s a boy or a girl?” she asked, foot tapping impatiently on the carpet.

Angela had been studying her stomach as well, humming a soft tune as she lovingly caressed the life inside of her. Her eyes lifted to Hana’s, where she gave a soft smile. “Don’t you want it to be a surprise?”

“No. I want a sister.”

Angela chuckled and shrugged. “Perhaps.”

“With mom’s hair and your eyes.”

Fareeha, sitting next to Angela and watching the interaction, chuckled softly as she laced her fingers with Angela’s. “You sound pretty confident.”

Hana shrugged, sliding off of the couch and walking on her knees towards Angela. “I know what I want in a sister. I…can I?” she asked, lifting her hand to Angela’s stomach.

“You never have to ask.”

Giving a self-satisfied laugh, Hana placed her hands on Angela’s stomach. “Hello, sister. First thing’s first: I’m number one. But you’re gonna be _my_ number one, see? It’s a win/win for us both. So you be good to mom while you’re in there. And don’t cry a lot when you’re born. I need my sleep.”

“So demanding,” Fareeha chided playfully.

“What if she grows up to be a better gamer than you?” Angela asked.

Hana scoffed. “She’s gonna be. She’s my prodigy.”

“Two gamers? I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to handle it.”


	27. Pistol-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Fareeha comes across Angela practicing with her pistol and immediately feels like she must go take a cold shower

Angela liked to consider herself a pacifist in as much as she could. Her role as a doctor meant that she could do no harm. But, her role in Overwatch sometimes required a firmer hand. Her gun did minimal damage. A deflector at most, something she hoped would scare people away. If they didn’t get scared away…it would do the job.

She grimaced as she aimed her gun at the target. Her hands, surgical hands, often shook when she aimed a weapon. She knew, _knew_ that it was for a good cause. She may need her pistol to protect someone or herself. ‘ _It’s necessary,’_ she told herself as she fired.

The robot’s head rocked back for the first few shots before exploding. Angela reloaded and worked on the next one. Clean, precise, deadly. Angela sighed and looked down at the gun. She didn’t notice the tall woman who watched her from the back of the room.

Fareeha smiled and crossed her arms, studying Angela’s voluptuous backside as the doctor reloaded once more. This time when she fired, her shots were slightly off.

“You’re tense,” she called out when she knew Angela was out of rounds. Angela turned, surprise turning into a grin as Fareeha stalked forward.

“You know how I feel about guns.”

“Be that as it may,” Fareeha said, hugging Angela from behind, “you look really good with one.”

Angela gave a roll of her eyes, looking down as Fareeha reloaded the gun with expert hands. “Your long fingers on the trigger,” she put the gun in Angela’s hands, “the strength of your forearms,” she continued, running her fingertips up Angela’s arms. “How blue your eyes get when you’re focused.” Fareeha’s breath warmed her cheek. Strong, calloused hands lifted her arms to aim. Angela closed her eyes for a moment to take in Fareeha’s presence before she opened them again and fired. All direct hits.

“See? I told you were tense.”

Angela laughed and holstered her pistol before turning around, arms circling Fareeha’s neck. “You always know how to make me relax.”

“Tell me you’re done practicing.”

“I’m done practicing.”


	28. Picnic-M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: what about under a table/blanket pharmercy teasing ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

An outdoor symphony sounded nice in theory. Fareeha liked music, and she liked the outdoors. And she _really_ liked Angela. But she didn’t realize the concert was three hours long. And there was only so much she could take. After a while it all sounded repetitive, and the soldier felt herself growing bored. Angela, however, couldn’t take her eyes off of it. Fareeha studied her profile with a soft smile. Angela could make just about anything enjoyable. They were nestled beneath a tree in the park, surrounded by other music enthusiasts. The summer night was warm, the bugs mercifully staying away thanks to Angela’s copious amounts of bug spray.

Fareeha snuggled against her side, nuzzling her cheek with her nose. Angela hummed and set her wine down, long legs stretching out beneath the blanket draped over them. Fareeha knew she was in shorts beneath that blanket. Loose, light denim shorts that looked nice with her white tank top. Fareeha pressed a kiss to her exposed shoulder, allowing her lips to drag over the skin. Her hand snaked beneath the blanket, traveling up Angela’s smooth calf, up her knee and to her thigh.

“Fareeha,” Angela chided breathlessly, lacing her fingers with Fareeha’s to stop them from undoing the snap of her shorts.

“I’m bored,” Fareeha whined, kissing Angela’s neck. Angela chuckled and rolled her eyes, but when Fareeha went for the snap again, she didn’t stop her. Fareeha licked her lips as her hand slid beneath her shorts, cupping Angela’s sex and feeling the soft cotton material of her panties.

“You’re trying to get me to leave,” Angela said, eyes closing as Fareeha began to rub her through her panties. The light touching coupled with the wine was enough to make Angela part her legs just slightly, giving Fareeha more room.

“Is it working?” Fareeha teased, using her free hand to turn Angela’s face for a gentle kiss.

“Uh-uh,” Angela answered, even as it was followed by a short gasp when Fareeha pressed harder.

Fareeha began to feel wetness on the underwear and she nipped at Angela’s jaw. “Are you sure?”

Angela maneuvered herself beneath the blanket, lifting it so that Fareeha’s hand and their movements were concealed. When she started to rock her hips, Fareeha slid her hand out, chuckling at the needy whine Angela released.

“In a public place, Angela?” Fareeha clicked her tongue. “That’s illegal.”

“Fine,” Angela huffed, petulantly buttoning up her jeans before rolling up the blanket. “Take me home then. And,” she pointed a long finger at Fareeha’s nose, “wipe that satisfied smirk off your face.”

“Yes, ma’am.”


	29. Surprise-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Mercy finds out she's pregnant and reveals it to Pharah (fluff)

Something was different about Angela. Fareeha couldn’t quite place what it was, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Angela was a glowing ball of warmth, all smiles and gentle touches. From the moment Fareeha came home, Angela was in her arms, holding her close and kissing her jaw. Sitting in her lap after dinner and caressing her side.

“You’re awfully affectionate,” Fareeha remarked when she pulled away from yet another kiss.

Angela hummed and tapped her fingers against Fareeha’s collarbone. “I have something for you.”

“Oh?”

The doctor nodded and removed herself from Fareeha’s lap. She disappeared only for a moment before returning with a small, packaged gift. Fareeha took a moment to appreciate the expensive paper and intricately wrapped bow. Her mind quickly searched for a reason for this gift. Birthdays, anniversaries…nothing stuck out at her. And there was no hint of passive aggressiveness in Angela’s soft eyes. Only a tender affection as she watched her wife handle the gift.

“It’s not going to jump out at me, is it?” Fareeha teased as she took her time unwrapping. Angela chuckled softly and gave a shrug.

“Perhaps it’s good you’re sitting down.”

Fareeha raised a sculpted brow and lifted the lid of the box skeptically. Nothing jumped out at her, but when she finally peered inside, the sight still sent her heart racing.

A pacifier, light green. She picked it up between two fingers, never realizing just how small they were until this moment. Tears filled her eyes and she sniffed them away as she looked up at Angela. “Really?”

Angela nodded, wiping her own tear before her hands when to her still flat stomach. Fareeha fell forward, the box forgotten as she pressed her face against her wife’s stomach. She lifted Angela’s shirt and kissed the skin, humming a tune to the life inside. The first of many to come. Songs, stories, touches. And love. So much love.

“Hello, little one,” she breathed, hands gripping Angela’s hips in earnest. “We’ve been waiting for you.”


	30. Decontamination-M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: fareeha and angela bang on her table in the med bay

“Lie down,” Angela purred, “and relax.”

Fareeha felt the gentle pressure of Angela’s palm on her chest and obeyed. The paper lining the med bay bed crinkled as she laid back upon it and Angela, always confident when in her workplace, gave a somewhat greedy smile. The room smelled like Angela, or possibly the other way around. Crisp, sterile, a hint of rubbing alcohol with an underlying dash of florals—likely Angela’s attempt to make it all seem less clinical. Just like the flowers—from Fareeha—that adorned her desk and lovely, calming landscape pictures.

But it wasn’t the pictures or the flowers that put people at ease in here. It was the doctor herself. Angela with her poise and compassion that even her extreme intelligence could not damper. Fareeha looked up at the doctor and watched as she discarded her lab coat, leaving her in her turtleneck—for she was always cold, despite years away from her homeland—and pencil skirt. Always professional, always beautiful. Fareeha told her so and some of that professionalism melted away with the heat on the doctor’s cheeks.

“Charmer,” Angela cooed back as she fingered the hem of Fareeha’s shirt. Lifting off the table, Fareeha raised her arms and let the shirt come away. There was a self-satisfied chuckle from Angela at the confirmation that the soldier had forgone a bra. “Exquisite,” she murmured then, fingertips trailing over the smooth, warm skin, sculpted from rigorous training.

“That your professional opinion?” Fareeha teased.

“Professional,” Angela nodded, leaning over the taller woman to give her a searing kiss. Her hand slid overtop of Fareeha’s breast, assured fingers coaxing a dark nipple to peak. Fareeha gasped, arching into her touch and moaning into the doctor’s mouth. “And personal,” she breathed when she pulled away.

“Come here,” Fareeha whined when Angela straightened. Long arms reached out for her and while Angela allowed them to grab her waist and travel up her sides, her posture remained perfect.

“One instance of decontamination is enough; don’t you think?” she asked with a perfectly raised eyebrow.

“I love it when you talk dirty.”

Angela laughed then, a sound that Fareeha never tired of, and bent over to kiss her again. Fareeha could feel her nails skirting over her abdomen, hardening the muscles with gentle scrapes. Further down they traveled until Angela reached the snap on her jeans. Fareeha felt the doctor’s skilled tongue in her mouth just as her palm skirted over her mound, rubbing her through her underwear. Angela preened at finding it already wet, and nipped at Fareeha’s bottom lip. Fareeha picked up a languid pace with her hips, watching the blonde ponytail descend down her body. Warm, swollen lips kissed her collarbone, her sternum, things that normal people wouldn’t find attractive. But Angela, with her analytical appreciation for the human body, adored. Beauty aside, Fareeha had marvelous bone structure, and Angela found that she quite enjoyed the feel of her ribs beneath her palm and her collarbone between her teeth.

But finally the doctor settled on something a bit more erogenous, fingers sliding expertly past the underwear as she took a nipple in her mouth. They both sighed at the contact. Angela knew just where to touch, and Fareeha arched, pushing more of her breast into the doctor’s heated mouth as her hips increased in pace. Her legs were on fire, sweltering from her jeans. Her feet burned with impending orgasm and Fareeha did not deny it. It took enough coaxing to get Angela to make love to her in here; she wouldn’t increase her anxiety by holding out.

“Harder?” Fareeha managed, eyes have lidded and melting into Angela’s own when they met.

Angela flashed her a smile that shook her more than her touch. “Of course.”

Picking up the pace, Fareeha groaned and rocked harder. The paper beneath her bare back pinched, but only continued to remind her of where she was. Angela leaned over her again and captured those moaning lips, tasting the sound of her orgasm as Fareeha came undone. She shuddered, muscles flexing in a lovely sight for the doctor, a soft, airy sigh traveling down Angela’s throat where it nestled and would remain in her heart.

“Was it everything you imagined?” Angela teased as Fareeha finally woke from her high.

Fareeha hummed and with lightning quick reflexes, grabbed the doctor and pulled her on top of her. Angela gasped in surprise, then shook her head as she laughed down at the red-faced soldier.

“Now it is,” Fareeha answered.


	31. Cold-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “It's cold. I need a hug.” - a fluffy pharmercy prompt?

Switzerland. In December. Fareeha cursed whichever god seemed to have it out for her and pulled her blanket tighter around her shoulders. The blanket sat over top a down jacket which sat over top a sweater, over top a tee shirt. She may as well have been naked. Nestled up by the fire, she trembled and eyed the electronic digits of the heater.

20 degrees Celsius.

It was official. Someone was trying to kill her.

Fareeha trembled and eyed her murderer from the corner of her eye. Curled up with a mug of tea, _shorts_ , and a turtleneck, Angela seemed to accept her fate to expire to the elements. The harsh winter sun gleamed through the window and highlighted her pale skin and blonde hair. The mug steamed in her palm, and Fareeha watched blue eyes dart across the words of her novel with interest.

“Angela.”

“For the last time,” Angela said kindly, closing her book, “I’m not turning it up.”

“I am dying, Angela.”

“You are a baby, Fareeha.”

The soldier grimaced, teeth chattering as she scooted closer to the fire which at this point may as well have been fake. She huffed and pulled the blanket tighter. Why not Switzerland in the spring? Or summer? Or anywhere else at any other time of the year. She huffed again and Angela mimicked it.

“What do you want? Other,” she lifted a finger at Fareeha’s open mouth, “than raising the thermostat.”

Fareeha snapped her mouth close, legs crossing beneath her. Any closer to the fire and her hair might catch. Angela would likely fight her over the thermostat, and she had the locational advantage, as well as skin that was apparently impervious to cold. Shrugging her shoulders, Fareeha lifted her dark eyes and pouted slightly.

“A hug.”

Angela let out a surprised laugh. “A hug?”

“I’m cold. If you’re not going to turn the heat up, warm me up some other way.”

Angela pondered this for a moment, foot tapping on the lush carpet and arms crossed. Fareeha attempted to make herself look as pathetic as possible—which admittedly wasn’t difficult—by puffing out her bottom lip and shivering harder. With a playful sigh, Angela fell to her knees, and fell further still, colliding with Fareeha and knocking her back onto the carpet. Fareeha groaned at the weight and tried not to giggle beneath Angela’s squirming form, attempting to hug her everywhere at once.

She failed, and began to laugh. Angela followed suit, untucking Fareeha from the blanket and undoing her jacket before falling against her again, eager to feel her lover’s warm skin. “Do you feel better, darling?” she asked, nose brushing against Fareeha’s.

“It’s still cold,” Fareeha answered, eyes shining.

Angela laughed. “And you’re still a baby.”


	32. Sympharmercy-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sympharmercy ot3?

Light danced through Angela’s palms, hard and translucent at the same time. Her eyes widened as she moved and manipulated the shape. Or at least, pretended to. Satya’s hands were on her own, thumbs gently caressing the skin as she made shape after shape for her lover.

“It is artistry,” Angela awed, watching as the shapes became more advanced.

“Indeed,” Satya replied. She was unashamed of the pride she had in her word. Angela smirked at the remark as she felt Satya’s cheek against hers, breath warm against her skin and lips just inches away. “But it is not surgery.”

Angela turned her head and met the waiting pair of lips. Light disappeared from Satya’s hands before folding with Angela’s, holding her close. Neither noticed the other woman enter the room until they heard Fareeha’s familiar chuckle.

“I can see I’m interrupting.”

Satya’s eyes opened impishly as she continued to kiss Angela, and with a seductive rove beckoned Fareeha over. The soldier obliged, pressing against Angela’s front, arms wrapping around the both of them to hold Satya close. Angela broke the kiss to beam at Fareeha, eager hands cupping her cheeks as she welcomed her home.

“We missed you, darling.”

Fareeha winked at the both of them. “Not too much, I think.”

“We had to distract ourselves while you were away,” Satya answered with a rare smile. Fareeha reached forward and captured it in her lips before gracing Angela with the very same.

“Will you show me how to bend light?” Fareeha teased as she edged both women to the bedroom.

Satya just hummed in response. There were far more important things at hand.


	33. Beach-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Pharmercy at the beach

Fareeha quite liked the beach. The sand and heat reminded her of home. And when she got too hot, she enjoyed treading out in the salty sea and riding the waves. She basked beneath the warm sun, dark skin oiled, and watched with interest as Lucio and Hana fought on how to make the best sandcastle, both blissfully ignorant of the actual art Satya was making a few feet away. Fareeha smiled to herself. A day at the beach was something they all needed after the past few stressful weeks.

Just as she was considering taking a dip, a shadow crossed over her. Looking up. Fareeha smiled at the sight of Angela, wearing a long white shirt and sun hat. “Hello, Fareeha, may I join you?” she asked, eyes shining. Fareeha nodded and watched as Angela laid her blanket down. Then she tried not to watch as the doctor removed her shirt. But she couldn’t help but see the red one-piece underneath, tied at the top and lined under the breasts to give Angela both support and cleavage. And, Fareeha admitted to herself with a blush, Angela _needed_ the support. Her chest was ample in size and her hips followed suit, flaring out and revealing thick, toned thighs.

Despite being used to such temperatures, Fareeha was suddenly very, very hot. She looked out at the others for distraction as Angela sat next to her and pulled sunscreen out of her back. It smelled like coconut, and Fareeha closed her eyes and dipped her head back, soothed by the surf and the scent. With her eyes closed, she did not see Angela’s roving glance. Fareeha sported a blue bikini and skimpy was the only word that came to mind when Angela gazed at it. Not that she minded.

Fareeha was long and all lean muscle. She looked at the muscles of her thighs, up to the hard abs in her stomach and defined sex lines that delved into the bikini bottom. Angela wasn’t sure if it was sweat or oil, but Fareeha gleamed beneath the sun, droplets lining her dark body. With her head tilted back, her long next was exposed and Angela felt herself blushing as she finally looked away. They were silent as Angela applied her sunscreen. The moment she moved to get her back, however, Fareeha finally spoke.

“Would you like some help?”

Angela, being so pale, was quite skilled in applying sunscreen on her own. Still, she smiled and tilted the bottle over. “Thank you.”

Fareeha nodded, clearing her throat as Angela moved to lie on her stomach. Immediately Fareeha realized her mistake. Angela’s aforementioned wide hips made for an exceptionally glorious ass. One that Fareeha occasionally stole glances at while at home and on missions. But now there was nothing stolen, only given. She swallowed and applied the sunscreen, rubbing it through her palms to warm it before she placed it on Angela’s back.

Angela tried not to react to the firm, strong hands. But everywhere Fareeha touched was like fire. It made her shiver and she wanted to writhe, but she simply buried her head in her arms to mask her pleasure. She’d often thought of Fareeha and those hands. Professionalism kept her silent about her desires, but Angela sensed after today it would be even harder to maintain.

“Do, um,” Fareeha cleared her throat again, “do you want me to get your thighs?”

Angela turned her head and their eyes met. They shared a glance that both of them seemed to recognize and with relief, Angela smiled and closed her eyes again.

“I’d like that.”

Fareeha smiled, heart racing as she ran her hands down the backs of Angela’s thighs. They flexed beneath her firm touch and Fareeha exhaled. Angela was smooth all over, skin warmed and oiled and nearly irresistible. The look they’d shared meant something to both of them, and it was with a newfound confidence that she dared down further swipe her finger Along the arch of Angela’s foot.

Angela squealed, jumping up and fixing a laughing Fareeha with a glare. She huffed despite her smile, and crossed her arms as she sat up. “See if I ever let you touch me again.”

Fareeha’s eyes widened as she moved to sit next to the doctor. She bumped their shoulders together and smirked when Angela looked over at her. “You wouldn’t do that, would you?”

Angela licked her lips. Fareeha noticed.

“Just watch yourself, soldier.”

“Yes, ma’am.”


	34. Strapped-E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: more pharmercy pwp x.x: Pharah gives Mercy the best strap-on missionary in the history of strap-on missionaries.

Angela lies beneath her, golden hair flayed around her head like a lion’s mane. Her eyes, piercing in the way they gaze at Fareeha, are wanting. Her cheeks and chest are splotched with red. Some patches simply from heat and desire, others from Fareeha’s own mouth. They will blossom into lovely marks of love that will require Angela to wear a turtleneck for a few days. Thankfully for them, this is not out of the ordinary. Angela’s hands are up by her hair, toying idly with the ends as she watches Fareeha position herself. This is not her first experience with the toy, but it is her first experience with Fareeha and the toy. She grates her teeth along her bottom lip, hips lifting to hurry her lover along.

Fareeha chuckles and presses a long hand to her abdomen, tracing the contours of muscle while hushing her softly. “Patience. I know what I’m doing.”

Fareeha’s confidence sends a ripple down Angela’s spine. Fingertips tighten on her abdomen, and the tip is inside. Angela groans at the stretch, hips rocking and feeding in more of the toy on her own accord. Another laugh from her lover and Fareeha is over top of her, expert hips thrusting slowly in until buried inside of Angela. She lays like that for a moment, allowing Angela to get used to the size, and peppers her neck with kisses and soft phrases in Arabic. Angela can only pick out a few phrases at most, but the intent is clear. They bury under her skin and remain, shooting sparks of pleasure with each new syllable and roll of the tongue.

She starts slowly, hips lifting and twisting to ensure that the right spot is always hit. Angela grips tightly to her shoulders and moves her own hips in tandem. Fareeha’s mouth never stops. From Angela’s face to her neck and even down to her chest she is worshiping her skin. More love marks will grow along her sternum and beneath her breasts. A bite mark above her nipple. Angela is frenzied with lust, unable to voice her pleasure other than cries and moans. Fareeha is better than she’s ever had. Angela knew she would be. Her lover is selfless, a giver. But even still she had not prepared herself for this.

Fareeha moans her name like a prayer, hands sliding down between the mattress to grip Angela’s ass. She lifts it, granting her a deeper thrust, and quickens pace. Angela feels Fareeha’s nails in her backside, feels the crescents rising along her skin. And something deeper and far more powerful builds within her core. She manages to pant her name. A warning, perhaps, or a breath of gratitude. She feels Fareeha smile against her skin and nothing more.

Her orgasm is intense, surging through her body and out her fingertips and toes. Fareeha does not relent her pace, and continues Angela through a series of aftershocks before finally, pleaded in her mother tongue, Angela gets her to stop. Fareeha sits up on her palms and looks down at Angela. Her mottled, sweat peppered skin, breasts heaving with every labored breath. She has never seen anything more beautiful. Still inside of her, Fareeha reaches out and gently sweeps the bangs from Angela’s eyes, and is rewarded with them opening. Blue and filled with lust and love, Fareeha is compelled downward to kiss her lover again.

“You really did know what you were doing,” Angela says when they break apart.

Fareeha chuckles. “Must you always doubt me?”

“If I don’t doubt you I’ll never be surprised. Stay in, just a bit longer?”

As always, Fareeha obeys.


	35. Language Pt. 2-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Holy, any chance of you continuing the airport pharmercy short where they can't understand each other? Angela is a genius right, she'll prolly nail egyptian arabic in 3 weeks xDD.

Fareeha’s fingers drum over her keyboard, hovering for a moment on the ‘Enter’ key before drifting away.

‘ _Coward,’_ she chastises herself in her mother tongue. Angela’s name is visible on her chat screen, a green dot next to it indicating that she is online. She has been for five minutes. Fareeha has counted the seconds while her fingers dance. It has been a few weeks, English is proving difficult, and without the blizzard to keep them together will the spark still be there? Fareeha touches her lips reverently, remembers the kiss they shared before Angela departed from her life. Hopefully, not forever.

It spurs her to call.

It rings once, twice, then a brief loading screen. Fareeha licks her lips and turns around, making sure nothing of embarrassment will be visible in the webcam. When she turns back, Angela is there. Hair up in the same ponytail she wore at the airport, she looks even more beautiful than Fareeha remembers. She lifts her hand and wiggles her fingers in a wave. Fareeha relaxes a bit and does the same.

“I…learn English,” she says slowly, lifting one of her many language books up to the camera. Angela’s eyes sparkle.

“You _learned_ English or you’re _learning_ English?” Mercifully, she speaks slowly, and tempers her accent to near non-existence. Still Fareeha’s eyes get wide.

“I…uh…” she shrugs, unable to do any more. But Angela just nods sweetly and admires the tattoo under her eye. She misses that tattoo, misses that face, that woman. Despite having dreams of her almost every night.

“We never needed English anyway.”

She smiles. Fareeha returns it. For now, it is all they need.


	36. Nanobots-E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone anonymously requested smutty pharmercy where the sharing of nanobots has some strangely lusty side effects.

‘ _I really should have run more tests,’_ Angela thinks as she slides her fingers, yet again, inside of herself. Ever since… _that day_ she’s been insatiable. The ache in her wrist is nothing compared to ache between her legs. Desperate and pulsing, she moans at the wetness and begins a hard pace with one hand, her free one running circles over her clit. She’s alone, as she always is. It’s late and quiet and cool and she bites her lip to stifle hard breaths and moans. It’s not enough. It hasn’t been enough for a week. But it will have to do.

At the time she wasn’t thinking clearly. All she knew was that Fareeha was dying and even her mind and technology would not bring her back. It was a decision made on instinct. Share her nanobots with Fareeha. Just to keep her alive until they got out of the field. Fareeha was alive now, as stoic and brilliant as ever. And the good doctor responsible was fucking herself silly at midnight.

Angela couldn’t stop. Since the nanobots returned to her own body from Fareeha’s she had been reduced to nothing but wanton lust. Every day and night she sat in her own arousal, only momentarily quenched by the few orgasms she could sneak in. Grinding against her office chair or putting hand down her skirt while she inputted files, using the med bay cot for own desires. It was unprofessional, obscene, and she wanted more.

Angela knew a quick study would find the cure. But she wasn’t in the state of mind for such a thing. And her already flushed cheeks deepened further at the thought of asking Winston or Mei for help. 

_‘I can’t seem to stop fucking myself. Do you have a hypothesis?’_

Angela chuckles low and husky at her own joke, rolling onto her knees and pressing her face against the pillow. The new angle helps her get deeper within herself and she briefly wishes she was the type to entertain toys, because she could certainly use one now. She rocks her hips and listens to the squelch of her fingers moving rapidly inside of her. Her fantasies often flew during this time but lately they havr been focused. On one person in particular. She imagines Fareeha behind her, inside of her, pounding into Angela and using her like no one ever had. The thought makes her groan, swollen lip caught between her teeth as she desperately seeks an orgasm. Her arousal trails down the backs of her thighs, coats her fingers and let her push deeper in, curling and rocking. 

“Please,” Angela begs to her own body. She is so close. So enveloped in the idea of Fareeha behind her. This orgasm will be good. Perhaps enough that she could get some sleep. Just a few more and–

“Angela.”

Her name, spoken right outside her door, brings the doctor to a halt. Her orgasm subsides, fear taking over as she rights herself and quickly wipes her hands on her sheets. Her hair is made up of sex, her room smells of it, she’s flushed, but she’s always on call. It will be embarrassing, she thinks as she throws on her previously discarded shorts, but necessary if someone’s life hangs in the balance. Angela huffs as she glances at her hair in the mirror, more out of her ponytail than in, and decides to leave it. Maybe she can blame it on sleep. 

The person knocks again, and Angela runs over her bed to the door, fearing an emergency. She slides it open, prepared to be briefed, but is stopped short by the sight in front of her. 

Fareeha is leaned against her door, head resting on a forearm. Her lovely tanned skin is flushed, hair mussed. Her eyes are closed but she smiles as she feels Angela’s eyes upon her. 

“I’ve come to ask,” she says through labored breaths, “for mercy.”

Angela blinks in confusion, thinking it a pun until her eyes trail lower. Fareeha is in nothing but a sports bra and shorts and Angela feels a new sweep of arousal at the sight of her clenched abs. Then she spots Fareeha’s other hand and her eyes go wide.

“Oh…oh my.”

Fareeha Amari is, without shame, fucking herself right outside of Angela’s door. Her hand is lost beneath her shorts and Angela can make out the definitive movements of masturbation. Exhausted from lack of sleep and horny beyond all reason, she can’t help herself. She moans. Fareeha’s eyes clench tighter and her hand speeds up. 

“God, I’ve been wondering what you sound like,” she purrs, accent thick in her delirium. 

Angela licks her lips and takes Fareeha’s free hand to pull her inside. Fareeha doesn’t complain and stumbles in, hand still working herself and eyes shut tight. Angela shuts the door behind them and tries not to get lost in that muscled back, the smell of Fareeha’s arousal and the vigorous way in which her right hand is moving between her legs. 

“Fareeha, what–

"The nanobots, maybe,” Fareeha interrupts, blindly searching for the bed. Angela escorts her and Fareeha sits with a sigh before leaning back. She’s either oblivious or uncaring of the company in the room because she moans softly and spreads her legs. This time Angela can hear the wet smacks of her fingers against her and she clenches her legs together tightly for relief. 

“Ever since then I…I can barely focus. I’m so _horny_ , Doctor Ziegler.”

Fareeha sits up then, and for the first time her eyes open, dark and feral and locked onto Angela. “And I know you are, too.”

Angela’s mouth falls open as she tries to stutter a response. But Fareeha stands and makes her way over, suddenly composed and tall and strong and everything Angela fantasized.

“I don’t know why, but I can feel what you’re feeling,” Fareeha hums, dark eyes lowering to Angela’s braless chest. Her nipples are hard, poking out through the tight material, and Fareeha sucks in a sharp breath and continues her motions. “I can feel when you pinch your breasts,” she advances and Angela backs up, neither giving in. “I can feel when you rub your clit.”

Angels bumps the wall. Fareeha bumps her, chest to chest, hand still working beneath her shorts. She leans down, breath hot against Angela’s ear.

“I can feel when you fuck yourself.”

They shudder against each other. Fareeha lurches forward, so close yet not enough to that which she desires. She’s waited a week, straining and writhing in her sheets as Angela’s body has called to her. But even her mighty will is obliterated by Angela smelling of sex and so, so close to her she can taste her.

“Please,” Fareeha begs, “may I–

"Take me.”

Fareeha crashes their lips together, pressing Angela against the wall. Angela groans loudly, her body already on fire. She can’t remember the last time she’s been with someone, and the complications from the nanobots are only enhancing a previous desire to be touched. And Fareeha is damn good at it. Foregoing her own pleasure, she lifts Angela by her thick thighs and presses her harder into the wall, tongues searching sloppily for each other. Fareeha’s hips move of their own accord, thrusting into Angela’s own. Angela can only whimper and mewl in response, fingers clawing that muscled back for more. She doesn’t want to wait, she doesn’t want foreplay. And she tells Fareeha by squirming until she’s dropped. Pushing past her, Angela lays on her stomach on the edge of the bed, settling herself before lifting her hips and sliding her shorts off. The sight of the shorts lowering to reveal that pale, thick ass Fareeha has dreamt about makes the soldier groan. She’s never seen anything sexier than Angela bent over her own bed, ass in the air and rocking to beckon her forward. Needless to say, she’s quick to obey.

When Angela feels Fareeha against her, she knows immediately that she’s removed her clothes as well. Toned thighs press against her back, and there are lips on her spine, tickling and licking and taking. “You are so fucking sexy,” Fareeha groans out against her.

Angela purrs at the compliment even as she rocks her hips back against Fareeha. “Please. I’ve waited so long.”

“So have I.”

In one swift thrust, Fareeha is inside of her, three fingers stretching her perfectly and finally, _finally_ quelling the ache inside of her. Angela lurches forward against the bed, fingers gripping the sheets as Fareeha picks up a firm pace, nipping at a shoulder blade. For all her wetness, Angela is still tight, likely clenching around her fingers and it’s all Fareeha can do to keep a rhythm. Because the nanobot ghosts are still in her veins, and she can tell just how good she feels to Angela. She knows the perfect rhythm, the perfect strength, and it reduces  them both to moaning masses, bodies pressed tightly together.  

Angela breathes out curses in her native tongue, rising higher and higher up the bed with each thrust. Her first orgasm catches them both by surprise. Fleeting and furious, it hits Angela just moments before Fareeha feels it burst. They both cry out,  fingers pumping and hips rocking as their pleasure subsides.

“More,” Angela begs before the last aftershock has even passed. But Fareeha is already ahead of her, lifting her onto the bed and on her back. Angela watches with dark eyes as Fareeha grabs a pale leg and lifts it onto her shoulder, hips sliding until their clits brush. The two of them suck in a sharp breath. Angela reaches out for Fareeha’s thighs and pulls them closer, down harder on herself. Fareeha groans, hips starting to work against her, the two of them grinding roughly on sensitive clits.

Angela’s cries  come  in  beats, soft moans of Fareeha’s name. Her body is boneless from the pleasure, and she watches Fareeha’s abs clenching with each thrust. Sex lines defined, hair dark and trimmed,  thighs strong, Angela could get off on just the sight of the soldier alone. But this is so much better. Fareeha’s cheeks are flushed, mouth parted to reveal white teeth. The same militant will hums in her dark eyes, demands her to be perfect for her lover despite her own needs. Angela feels her heart flutter at the thought of Fareeha’s constant altruism, the boldly beating heart beneath her breast. Perhaps later, when she’s solved this mind numbing problem, she’ll ask  Fareeha to dinner. Angela chuckles a bit at the steps skipped to get here and starts to push her hips against her soldier. Fareeha’s nails dig into her thigh for leverage, slick sounds coming from their thrusts only driving them harder.

“A-Angela,” Fareeha mutters, head dipping forward as she takes her pleasure. She leans forward, testing Angela’s flexibility by resting on her palms over her. They’re both  surprised to find her leg can stretch back, and their noses brush with quiet laughs. “You’re beautiful,” Fareeha whispers, breath hot against Angela’s cheek.

Angela cups her face and runs her thumb over the udjat. “As are you.”

A surprisingly shy smile crosses Fareeha’s dark lips before she leans down and seeks her lips. Their hips are desperate, but their mouths are slow, intimate and searching for the  hope that builds in each of their chests. Fareeha feels Angela’s orgasm building through her own and hums against those sweet lips. Angela is gentle and kind, soft even in the throes of their accidental lust. Fareeha had dreamt of her often. When Angela smiles at her or laughs at her silly jokes or all too serious nature, Fareeha considers asking her out. Apparently, taking a rocket to the face is easier than facing rejection. But with those deep blue eyes looking into her own, lovely sounds of pleasure coming from soft pink lips, perhaps one day she will find the courage.

Angela comes first again, brow clenched and back bowing languidly off the bed. Fareeha follows  immediately after, pressing a breathless kiss to Angela’s calf. Exhausted from the late hour, Fareeha throws Angela’s leg off her shoulder and collapses on top of her. Angela laughs softly and Fareeha is reminded of why she fell for her in the first place. When their eyes meet again without the cloud of lust, Angela laughs again, fingers tracing designs along a muscled shoulder.

“Hi.”

“Hello.”

Fareeha dares down again and is pleasantly surprised to be greeted with a kiss. The feelings are still surging through her veins, but Fareeha can’t tell what’s real and manufactured anymore. And being closer to Angela seems to still the insatiable desire.

“May I sleep here tonight?” Fareeha asks, lifting a brow. She’s about to explain why when Angela speaks.

“I was going to ask if you would.”

Fareeha smiles. “And tomorrow we can research these side effects.”

“Tomorrow,” Angela drawls playfully, rolling her eyes, “or the next day.”


	37. Jealousy-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: If you ever have the time, could you do a jealousy Pharmercy prompt? Really digging your work! (:

Angela Ziegler is kind to a fault.

Sometimes it gets her into trouble. Such as the man now seated at her small corner coffee table trying to make small talk. Angela’s entire life is complicated and complex and, indeed, dangerous, so she doesn’t have the heart to tell this man off because it really is such a simple matter. He sips his coffee, bragging about the lack of cream and sugar while eyeing Angela’s light colored frappuccino. Angela raises a brow in mock interest, unconcerned until she hears a throat clearing behind her. The man looks up and his eyes widen.

Fareeha is a tall, muscular woman, unafraid of showing it with tank tops and tight shirts. She stands behind Angela with a cup of steaming tea, dark eyes hard as she gazes upon the stranger.

“You’re in my seat,” she says finally, the cup folding just a bit under her grasp. Her tone is sharp and clear, as if giving commands on the battlefield, and to Fareeha this is just as serious.

The man stands, flustered, and flings his hand in Angela’s direction. “I—she didn’t tell me it was taken.”

“You didn’t ask,” Angela answers, stirring her straw in her drink.

The man blusters something else but finally removes himself. Fareeha sits with a huff, and Angela can tell by the hurt in her lover’s eyes that this situation is far from over.

“Fareeha…”

Fareeha takes a sip of her tea, forgetting how hot it is. It sears the tip of her tongue and only makes her angrier. Angela offers her chilled drink and she shakes it away.

“He was harmless,” Angela tries.

Fareeha finds the man in another corner of the shop. His hairline is receding, and there’s a pot belly sitting beneath the table. “I know that,” she says with a huff.

“Then why are you angry?”

“I’m not angry, I’m…”

She takes another, more cautious sip of her tea and turns to look out the window. She misses the realization light up in Angela’s eyes, but does turn back when she feels a warm hand atop her own.

“ _Liebling,_ are you jealous?”

Fareeha scoffs but says nothing more. Angela’s light tinkling laughter that normally soothes now grates. There’s a screech as Angela slides her chair over and lips press against her cheek.

“You have nothing to worry about. I’m yours,” Angela whispers in a tone that drives Fareeha wild. This time is no different, making the normally stoic soldier shudder slightly and slump in her chair.

“Then why was he here?” she half whines.

“Because I knew you’d come and save me.”

Fareeha sighs and allows a small concession of lacing their fingers together. “I just…it irritates me, when you don’t brush them off. When you know they’re not looking for friendship.”

Angela nods and strokes Fareeha’s sharp chin. “I understand. I’ll try to be more assertive.”

Fareeha nods, eyes finally shining when they fall upon her lover. “I’ll try to be less of a shit.”

“Is that possible?”

Fareeha’s answer is a light tickle to Angela’s ribs that has her ringing with laughter in the small cafe. Red faced, she buries her head in Fareeha’s shoulder to finish out her laugh. Fareeha chuckles alongside her, rubbing Angela’s back and stealing a sip of her frappe to soothe the burn of her tongue.


	38. Sympharmercy 2-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sympharmercy ot3, Fancy Business Architect Satya Vaswani falls in love with her doctor Angela Ziegler and her Bodyguard Fareeha Amari and feels like she shouldn't have to choose (Angela being the company physician, her and Fareeha have... 'met' before)

“What did you do this time, Captain Amari?” Dr. Ziegler asks as she presses a mercilessly warmed stethoscope  to Fareeha’s bare back. Having done this multiple times, Fareeha takes a deep breath and repeats when the stethoscope moves. Her breaths are shorter than normal, the result of potentially broken ribs. Bruises line her side and there’s a nice swelling over her right eye.

“My job,” Fareeha answers simply, despite her smiling eyes. Angela shakes her head with a soft chuckle and examines her eye.

Pretending to be on her Blackberry, Satya watches all of this with growing interest. Her bodyguard and company physician had been a matter of interest for some time. And Satya was nothing if not observant, precise, and methodical. She could feel the way the doctor’s hands lingered during her checkups, the way her eyes examined in a way that was not clinical, the way her voice changed when Satya entered the room. As for her bodyguard…. Well, no one needs to know that her injuries stemmed from certain…intimate distractions regarding the one she was supposed to be protecting.

Satya’s lips still tingled fresh from the encounter. She ran her tongue over them, tasting Fareeha’s chapstick again, and watched the interaction in  front of her. For some time she’d been struggling with her more baser desires regarding these two women. Both were attractive in their own rights, starkly different in behaviors but with glowing traits that made the architect swoon. She wanted them both. And Satya seldom didn’t get what she wanted.

Now, as she watched Angela’s cheeks turn pink at Fareeha’s bumbling flirting, she knew that she could have it. Throwing her phone into her purse, Satya makes her heels click as she strides over, making both women turn. Brown and blue eyes both look at her with mirrored affection, and Satya allows herself to give an easy laugh.

“It’s settled then,” she says with a clap of her hands.

Fareeha blinks. Angela tilts her head.

“Isn’t it obvious? You want each other,” she flicks her fingers between the both of them, ignoring  the mutual blushing and bumbling, “and you both want me,” she points to herself with her signature ravishing smile. “And I myself have been struggling with choosing between the two of you. So here is the proposal. The three of us, together.”

Fareeha and Angela glance awkwardly at each other, neither realizing they’d been so transparent in their attraction. Still, Angela smiles first, dipping her head slightly in a way that makes Fareeha swoon. And when a dark arm seeks around her waist, the doctor does not stop it. Angela worries her bottom lip for a moment before daring to speak.

“May I ask…what does this entail?”

Satya steps closer,  chest to chest with the doctor, and runs her finger around her stethoscope. “Whatever you’d like, doctor. I know from experience that Ms. Amari is quite cleverly skilled with  her tongue.”

Angela’s eyes go wide as Fareeha ducks her head. Satya only chuckles again.

“Are we schoolchildren? As adorable as I find all of this blustering,” she reaches out to both of them,  forcing their eyes upon her, “I’m ready for something more…mature.”

This time, when Angela and Fareeha smile, Satya knows she’s going to get her way.


	39. Glow-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Could you write more preggy Angela for us pls *-*

Angela always glowed. Whether in her Valkyrie suit with shimmering wings or in a late night surgery, light always seemed to find her. It catches the fine threads of silver in her golden hair and makes her crown shimmer. Glistens off the lotion on her skin and catches those bright blue eyes. It didn’t help that, come rain or shine, happiness or sorrow, the doctor could always be found with a smile, even if it was for someone else’s benefit.

But as Fareeha slowly came awake, her eyes are nearly blinded by the sight beside her. Angela often woke earlier than even her militant partner, and today is no different. With the morning sun peeking through the blinds, lines of gold splay upon her exposed and rounded belly. She’s pulled her top up, just under her breasts, and dances shadows along the stretched skin. Lightning strikes of soft pink stretch marks run up her sides and shimmer in the right angle. A soft tune fills Fareeha’s ears, something from Angela’s childhood that she’s heard before, hummed between soft pursed lips.  

Fareeha didn’t know that Angela could be even more beautiful, but here she was, resplendent in the morning sun as she bonded with the life inside of her. A life that they’d created together. Angela doesn’t realize her lover is awake until she feels lips press against the side of her stomach.

“Good morning, you two.”

“We were waiting for you,” Angela answers softly, as if the baby is sleeping, hands cupping her belly as she reaches over to meet Fareeha’s lips.

“I’m here, my loves. Always and forever,” Fareeha answers, lips falling down Angela’s body before dancing over their child.

“She’s kicking today.”

“’She,’ huh?” Fareeha teases, placing her hands on her belly. A moment later she feels a foot press against her palm, firm and strong. “A good kick. Perhaps you’re right.”

Angela beams and Fareeha feels as if she’s staring into the sun, moon and stars.


	40. Hips-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Hello! If you're still taking prompts: Ana made a joke about Mercy's full hips and grandchildren and now that's all Pharah can think about. Thank you for sharing your writing with us!

It’s with an idle interest that Ana sips her tea and watches Angela prance around the med bay taking inventory. Angela’s imported Swiss chocolates often bring her here for her afternoon tea and Angela was and always will be a dear friend. Today Ana has company. Her daughter sits beside her, nursing her own mug. While still piping hot, Fareeha stole one of Ana’s coveted chocolates and dropped it in her tea to melt. The idea makes Ana’s own tongue whither but she never could quite fully understand her daughter, and plays it off as one of Fareeha’s many quirks.

Conversation is sometimes difficult between the two of them. Sometimes the past will catch up with Ana and bring tears to her eyes and that cold aloofness she never wants for her daughter. Sometimes the present will hit Fareeha and she will act petulant and bitter. It’s a work in progress for the both of them. The only thing that brings them together is Angela. Ana’s dear friend and Fareeha’s lover is the glue that binds their strange family, and it’s a blessing that Angela is strong enough for the both of them. It’s why Ana suggested Fareeha take tea with her in the med bay. Just Angela’s presence can calm the mighty storm in her daughter.

Angela clicks her tongue as she looks at her clipboard, pen tapping against her chin. “That can’t be right,” she mutters to herself, fingers rifling through a package of gauze. The doctor often talks to herself, and Ana shares an amused smile with her daughter, happy that there is at least someone who can bring light to Fareeha’s dark eyes.

“I must have more gauze somewhere,” she prattles on. Blissfully unaware, she bends down in front of the two women to open a cabinet and rifle about. Ana stares for a moment, mildly jealous of Angela’s youth and a body type she never had even in her best years. When it borders on impolite she snaps her eyes away and finds Fareeha staring in a much more sinful manner. The older woman chuckles, sipping her tea to make Fareeha wait for an answer as to what is so amusing.

“Wide hips,” Ana murmurs only for her daughter’s hips. Fareeha licks her lips, unsure of how to respond. Ana winks at her. “You know what that means?”

“I…am afraid to answer.”

Ana chuckles again and shakes her head. “Nothing like that, _habibti_. Childbearing hips, is all I mean. Though I’m sure you find your fair share of amusement with them. Something your mother wants to know _nothing_ about.”

She expects Fareeha to share in the joke, but when she glances back her daughter is staring again at Angela. With a different kind of desire. Her eyes are wide, mouth slightly parted, and Ana can practically hear that brilliant mind at work.

“Children,” Fareeha breathes, as if she never thought of it before. And perhaps she hadn’t. Ana doesn’t pry as to how serious the two are, but given her daughter’s expression, perhaps grandchildren aren’t out of the picture. A chance to try again. To be the best grandmother in hopes of making up for her shortcomings as a mother. A chance to bring a child into the world of peace and keep them far away from sniper rifles and rocket cannons.

Fareeha herself imagines a different picture. Before the child is born. Simply of Angela, glowing and smiling over a swollen belly. Angela waddling adorably down the hall. Fareeha rubbing her swollen ankles in the evening, Angela with smears of color on her cheek from painting the nursery. The soldier gives an embarrassed laugh as she sniffs and wipes tears from her eyes. The sound alerts her lover who turns and tilts her head.

“Fareeha? Are you alright, darling?”

The prodigal doctor and awe inspiring genius has specks of black ink on her chin from tapping it prior. Fareeha is so in love she feels she might burst. She stands with a laugh and pulls Angela into her arms, ignorant of her mother in the corner. She kisses her sweetly, still laughing, and Angela wipes fresh tears from her eyes as Fareeha rubs the ink from her chin.

Ana politely eyes her tea during this encounter, wondering if she’s ever seen her daughter this happy before.


	41. Pwn-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Angela and Fareeha being soccer moms at one of Hana's MLG matches.

“Milf alert.”

Spoken by a gangling thing with too much oil in his face and hair. He peers over his dirty glasses with a perpetual nod and Hana sighs. She doesn’t want to, but she must look. And indeed when she does, her fears are confirmed.

Both of her mothers sit side by side, clad in the pink and green of Hana’s logo. Her mother, Angela, sports pink bunny ears atop her blonde head while her other mother, Fareeha, waves a foam finger with ‘NERF THIS!’ inscribed on it.

Hana glares at them both, and when they notice, they cheer louder, calling Hana’s name and jumping up and down.

“Oh god, she’s jumping. I gotta go to the bathroom,” a boy next to her says, jumping from his chair with his hands over his crotch.

“ _Moms!_ ” Hana hisses, waving them down. “What are you doing?!”

“Getting rid of the competition,” Fareeha says innocently, putting a hand on her wife’s shoulder. “You think it’s a coincidence your mother wore her oldest bra?”

“That…that’s brilliant,” Hana admits, looking around. Most of the non-assholes are undeterred. But those who subscribe to some sort of gaming pedantry are all flustered at the sight of her mothers in their tight shirts and impish faces. “I love you, guys.”

“We love you, too, darling,” Angela says, daring a kiss to her daughter’s cheek that Hana surprisingly allows. “Now _pown_ them.”


	42. Treat-M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Can you do a prompt based on Mercy's Halloween costume?

“You weren’t kidding when you said you went all out for Halloween,” Fareeha mused as she followed their healer to the rendezvous point. Realistically, the one with the body armor and cannon should be in front, but it seemed her new outfit left Angela with some newfound confidence. And she completely deserved it.

Fareeha felt her heart racing as she gazed, once again, at those thigh high leather boots. They creaked with every step, each flash of that skimpy skirt revealing more flesh. Angela giggled in front of her and turned, playfully straddling her staff (designed to look like a witch’s broom) and tipped her pointed hat.

“You don’t like it?”

Fareeha rolled her eyes, though it went unseen given her whited out contact lenses. “I’m just curious about your safety. Is there any armor on that?”

“I don’t need armor,” Angela retorted, spinning quickly enough that her skirt flew around her waist. “I have you.”

A strangled whimper escaped the soldier’s mouth. Blessedly, the entirety of Angela’s ass could not be contained by her small black shorts. Fareeha saw the rounded curves of her ass, her wide hips and gloriously fit thighs.

“Mercy.”

Angela turned at her call-sign. No sooner had her hair followed than she found herself pinned against the nearest wall in the alleyway.  A dark chuckle escaped Fareeha’s normally bubbly lover. Fareeha silenced it with a growl, ripping her gloves off so she could feel the tempered leather beneath her fingertips.  She wasted no time in circling around to grab Angela’s ass, lifting the cheeks and rolling them to reveal more of that supple skin.

“You…you’re…” Fareeha couldn’t waste the time to finish. Her mouth moved endlessly. Over cute pumpkin earrings and down a skeleton necklace. She lifted one of Angela’s legs to wrap around her waist and buried her head between that tantalizing cleavage.  Angela felt each tender kiss to every freckle and mole and sighed as she dipped her head back.

“Enchanting?”

Fareeha groaned, nipping at tender flesh to punish the pun-giver. Angela squealed and jumped, but Fareeha was always one step ahead, catching the witch and holding her against the wall by her thighs. Angela felt her hot mouth leaving sparks of want along her skin, hips rocking instinctively as Fareeha found her favorite spot.

“Fareeha, the m-mission,”  she managed between gasps.

The soldier snorted in response. “This is your fault. You knew what this would do to me.”

“I did. Consider this your trick.” Angela wiggled free of Fareeha’s strong grip and pushed the soldier away easily with one palm. She made a show of bending over to grab her staff again and smiled to herself at Fareeha’s groan. When she rose again there was a wicked gleam in her eye, one that intensified as she ran her gloved thumb over Fareeha’s bottom lip. “Be a good girl, and you’ll get your treat tonight.”

Fareeha exhaled a shaky breath, smiling even as she rolled her eyes again. “Happy Halloween.”


	43. Trick-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Im sure youre receiving your fair share of Pharmercy halloween craze promps right now, so heres another one: You know the sprays of them trick or treating? I promp that, Angela taking Pharah trick or treating when they were small. (age difference!) Double bonus if widowtracer is throw in too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: There is no romance or fluff or anything other than an attempt at a cute Halloween story.

Angela finds it hard to believe that the bouncing child in front of her is twelve years old. The way she’s whooshing and zooming up the street, arms outstretched as she pilots her jet costume over lawns, one would think her far younger. But Fareeha has never shied away from her passion of flying or fighting–something that both disappoints and enlivens her mother. Called away on a mission, Ana appointed Angela as Fareeha’s guardian on this Hallows Eve and the young doctor was happy to oblige.

Halloween is uncommon where she’s from, and she enjoys the decorations, creepy aura, and wonder of children as she gently sweeps her broom along the sidewalk. The leaves she collects gets swept into the gutter and she tips her pointed black hat to children that pass by. In her other hand she swings Fareeha’s plastic jack-o-lantern that rattles with candy every step. It’s quite a haul, but according to Fareeha, they’re nowhere near done. Angela chuckles as she tries to imagine Fareeha eating all of the candy in one night and assumes that probably exactly what she intends to do.

Footsteps have surrounded her all night, but in a surprising beat of silence Angela senses something amiss. Footsteps too measured to be a child or guardian following a child, light and secretive. The back of Angela’s neck prickles in defense, hand tightening on her broomstick. She was new to Overwatch and had meager defense training so far. But she will do whatever it takes to keep Fareeha safe. Children, above all else, are innocent. A quick rustle of leaves and Angela turns, eyes scanning the shadowed streets. Her guard hasn’t quite let down yet but she’s startled by Fareeha’s shout.

“Next house, Angela! I need my bucket!”

Angela blinks and scans the perimeter once more, but nothing but small ghosts and superheroes run rampant with parents. Thinking herself superstitious, Angela chuckles and jogs back to Fareeha, who looks adorable. Ana spent an ungodly amount of time on her costume, perfectly cut and glued and painted cardboard boxes that made a surprisingly good replica of a fighter jet. Her face is a mix of blue and white paint to match the jet and her hair blows wildly in the breeze. She grabs the bucket from Angela and races to the door, bouncing from one sneakered foot to the other. Angela watches dutifully as she received her candy, only to get that strange feeling again. Someone is watching her. Them.

Angela turns again and scans harder. Her pistol is concealed beneath her witch’s outfit, but she doesn’t want to endanger so many innocent lives. Her mind quickly calculates many paths. Escape routes, possible suspects, plans of attack and protection. So absorbed that she doesn’t hear Fareeha walking up behind her and calling her name. Doesn’t register anything but the hard poke into her back which sends her screaming a mile in the air. When she comes back down, Fareeha’s doubled over in laughter, and Angela fans her heated face.

“Man, you got air! You should be the one in this suit,” Fareeha laughs as she waves her winged arms. Angela huffs somewhat playfully and doesn’t allow herself to feel better until Fareeha roots around in her bucket and pulls out a mini Snickers and offers it to the witch. It isn’t until Angela relents with a smile that Fareeha puffs out her chest and salutes, looking exactly like her mother. “There’s great houses past the old block. Come on!”

“The old block?” Angela asked, quickening pace to keep up with the girl.

“It’s where the old people live. They don’t do Halloween so it’s dead but past it are the rich people. I’m talking full sized candy bars, doctor. Full size,” Fareeha calls giddily over her shoulder.

Pausing for just a moment to help a purple skinned girl and her embarrassed and lipsticked stain lover out of a tree, Angela forgets about her fears until they reach the old block. It’s near pitch black, no decorations on display or kids running around. Perfect spot to be ambushed by whoever is following them. Angela swallows and reaches for Fareeha’s shoulder to tug her back.

“I’m not sure about this.”

“What? Why?”

“I…It’s…”

Fareeha’s eyes flash wide and she puffs her chest out again. “You’re scared!”

“No, I–

“Don’t worry, Doc. I’ll protect us,” Fareeha says, imitating her mother’s tone and giving a single nod. Before Angela can grab her again, all four feet of terror zooms off into the block. All Angela can do is follow, muttering Swiss German expletives beneath her breath.   
Fareeha stops dead center in the middle of the street and Angela is about to thank her for waiting when she sees the girl peer up at her nervously.

“I heard something,” she whispers, voice trembling. Her bravado is gone and as she takes a step closer to Angela, the doctor finds her bravery. Fareeha is a brave girl, but still just a girl. It’s her job now to keep her safe, and she will not fail.

“Keep walking,” she whispers, pressing on Fareeha’s back. She obeys and they walk slowly down the street. Footsteps follow and they both stop and turn, only to find darkness. Fareeha whimpers. Angela swallows. A rustle of leaves to their right and they turn again, quicker now with breaths coming in pants. Angela thinks of goblins and ghouls and all that she’s learned of this holiday and trembles slightly.

“Gotcha.”

The voice is not Fareeha’s, but it’s whispered into the shell of her ear. Angela screams, Fareeha follows, the two of them falling forward and scrambling back. It’s not until they hear Ana’s signature laugh that they stop moving. Fareeha recovers faster than Angela, getting up and stomping towards her mother.

“Mom! What the f–

“Language!”

“Heck!”

Ana chuckles again and reaches down to help the still stunned doctor to her feet. “Just a little revenge for making me work six hours on a costume. Sorry to make you a casualty of war, Angela. Oh, and any candy you spilled is hereby mine.”

Fareeha looks down at half of her bucket lining the street and curses.

“Language!”


	44. Something Good to Eat-E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: im so gay for mercy right now holy SHIT. Here's a sinful prompt: Angela's witch costume drives Fareeha crazy and they end up fucking in the middle of battle. whoops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to @clandestineuser (ohHOLYmoves) for her brilliant help with this. Any parts that are good are due to her. Nsfw

She’s ripped the snaps from her leather boots so she can grip more of those delectable thighs and those black too short shorts are ripped apart and left forgotten in the street.

They can hear Reinhardt yelling in the distance and the sound of gunfire but they have their little alcove here, away from the battle. Pharah barely takes time to undress her. She doesn’t bother with laying down or pushing Angela against the wall. She wants to taste her. So she hefts Mercy up onto her shoulders and pushes her back, the brick biting into her shoulders. The cool metal of Pharah’s suit is cold against her thighs but her hot tongue is a nice contrast.

Pharah’s hard armor warmed by the heat of her thrusters burns into the back of Mercy’s knees but she doesn’t care because it burns so good along with the brick scratching her shoulders. She’s high up and unafraid, delirious with want and fears of getting caught but Pharah has her in both of those ways. She always does.

Angela hooks her fingers under the raptora helmet and rips it off so she can dig her fingers into wavy, dark hair, damp with sweat. Her hips swivel and dip, yearning for more of Pharah’s delicate touch but the woman doesn’t give when she doesn’t want to. She pulls her head back and flits her eyes up, shining with mischief. Mercy groans and throws her head back against the wall, hips still seeking lamely.

“We don’t have time for this. Please.”

Pharah hugs and turns her head to kiss a patch of skin on Angela’s thigh. “We always have time for this.”

Pharah wants to savor. She’s seen this outfit for a week now. The curves of Angela’s breasts and cleavage, the way her ass teases out of her shorts, the smirk she gives when she catches Pharah looking. She’s been teasing Pharah for days and the soldier can’t take it anymore. She takes her nails down Mercy’s thighs to hear her groan. Hips rock against Pharah’s mouth as she moves her strong hands to grip her ass. Pharah intends to make her work for it.

Angela has been teasing in the way she walks, hips swinging side to side past her face. Has been teasing in soft tones of a lilting voice that promises always to have her back. She teases in her smile cast over a shoulder before they head onto the battlefield. Pharah cannot resist this even when they hear explosions and bullets whistling through the air. She will have her time, here and now, with her arms wrapped around thick thighs and Mercy supported by her shoulders and the wall.

She has one way audio activated on her comm. If something were to happen she can fly up and assist but right now things are fine and as long as that is what she hears she’s going to take her time. Laves her tongue slowly over Mercy and moans against her but doesn’t press too hard or force. Because she wants those thighs to clench around her in want and grip her face and beg for more. And that sweet lilt in Angela’s voice isn’t doing enough to change her mind. She wants to savor now amidst the chaos. Most of Angela’s costume is discarded or ripped on the ground but hers is intact, ready to assist if necessary. But at the moment there are more pressing matters.

Mercy groans and knocks her head against the wall, witch hat feathering slowly to the ground. “Please, just…”

Pharah hasn’t stuck to a constant rhythm since she pulled Mercy into this alley. She drags her tongue through her folds with a hum and backs off. A frustrated huff and nails against her scalp make her chuckle. Loose fitting heels try to dig into her spine and Pharah feels little but a slight pressure through her suit. Those thick thighs tighten in her grasp and squeeze against her cheeks. Mercy puts more weight on Pharah’s shoulders to push from the wall slightly and grind against her mouth, desperate.

“Please, please,” repeated with each thrust of her hips.

Pharah looks up at Mercy’s red face, her pleading eyes that have lost all sense of teasing. She smiles. Angela whimpers. Pharah darts forward, pushing her back against the wall and finally setting a fast, firm rhythm. Angela cries out and her pleas turn to “yes” over and over. Pharah’s shoulders burn with the weight, cheeks slick from arousal and warm thighs and her hips jut forward instinctively, craving more. Angela feels gloved hands bite into her ass hard enough to bruise and moves forward, off the wall, she slides her legs even wider and puts her palms on Pharah’s shoulders, lifting herself to push down on Pharah’s hot tongue. It’s a testament to the soldier’s strength that she can manage it, one hand regrettably leaving Mercy’s ass to brace against the wall for balance. The other grips Mercy’s skirt, providing counterbalance with each thrust.

Teeth occasionally scrape against her clit, accidental but amazing all the same. Pharah can feel Mercy’s hips growing erratic and pushes forward, bodies slamming back against the wall. She pulls Mercy’s hands away. Wants to feel those muscled legs around her, and groans as she sucks her clit into her mouth before swirling her tongue around it. Angela swears, loses a boot, and keens loudly as she comes, hips jerking so hard Pharah nearly loses her balance. But she clutches tightly to that thick ass, overcome still with lust for this woman. She wants to throw her on the ground and take her again, fly her to a rooftop and take her once more, bend her over a nearby hay bale and make her scream her name.

And she will.

When the battle is over.


	45. Hopeless-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: ana teasing pharah about mercy's costume plz i am trash

“Did you put her up to that?”

Fareeha flashes her mother a sideways glance and finds Ana smirking. When it’s clear her daughter doesn’t understand, Ana aims the butt of her rifle at another, far more attractive butt. Despite her blushing protests, Angela always has a bit of a sway when she walks, and the witch costume only exemplifies her already ample…assets. Each swish of her skirt reveals the thin black shorts too small to cover the lower curve of her ass. Before her mother’s intervention, Fareeha had been staring. Now she blushes and pushes random buttons on her Raptora in an attempt to seem uninterested.

“No.”

“Come on, Fareeha. She’s more out of that suit than in. You’re telling me you had nothing to do with it?”

“Nothing at all.”

“I guess you just reap the benefits, hm?”

Fareeha glares down at her smaller mother who only gives a throaty chuckle. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really?”

“Really.”

“Allow me to show you, then.”

“That’s not–

Too late. Ana rips her sleep dart from a pocket in her arm and chucks it ahead to land just in front of the good doctor. Angela stops and peers down at. When she begins to bend over, Fareeha understands.

“Mother, no.”

Ana chuckles again and Fareeha is forced to stand with her mother by her side as All-Ass-Angela–quaintly nicknamed by Hana–bends over in front of them both to pick up the dart. And she can’t look away. She can’t because it’s beautiful. So Fareeha stares with a grimace on her face and watches as Angela turns and beams at the two of them, shaking the dart in her hand.

“Lose something, Ana?” she teases sweetly.

Ana grins back all honeyed and shrugs. “Silly me. Whoops,” she adds as the dart falls from her hands again and to the floor. “I’m getting to be so old.”

Fareeha stomps on her mother’s foot just as Angela bends down in front of them to pick it up once more. Now Fareeha’s entire view is the ample cleavage of Angela’s bosom. Ana jerks at the stomp but still has that same sickly smile. When Angela stands, Fareeha’s eyes follow, only not quite as upright as she’d hoped. She doesn’t realize she’s still staring until the breasts in front of her shift and she gets an elbow in her side.

“Stop staring, habibti. I didn’t raise a pig.”

Fareeha gasps and mirrors the doctor’s already present blush. Blessedly, Angela seems more flattered than offended, but still Fareeha shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Angela.”

“It’s alright. It’s a bit smaller than I remember. Too many sweets, I suppose,” Angela answers as she tugs on her corset a bit.

“Nonsense, Angela. It’s beautiful. Fareeha never could keep her eyes off of you.”

“Mother, please.”

“You’d think she’d at least have gotten better at it by this point.”

“Moth–

“But it seems you’re doomed to these puppy eyes forever,” Ana finishes, reaching up to pinch Fareeha’s cheeks. Fareeha’s considering murder, but Angela’s tinkling laugh pulls her back. She’s still cherry red, a blush that’s spread clear to her chest, but her eyes are locked on Fareeha’s.

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“N-no?” Fareeha clears her throat after her voice cracks and Ana stands on her toes to smack her playfully on the back of the head.

“Hopeless.”

For the first time tonight, the dig doesn’t hit. Because Fareeha is lost in Angela, who stares just as much at the soldier if not more.


	46. Test Run-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: pls do more pharmercy with witch mercy

Fareeha looked up at the sound of her name coming down the hall and set her mug of tea back on the table. “Hmm?”

“Would you come and help me, please?”

“Depends on what it is,” Fareeha teased back. Despite their distance she could hear Angela’s soft chuckle and the sound of a smile in her voice when she replied.

“It’s not a chore, I promise.”

The soldier lifted herself from her comfortable chair and deposited her book over the arm, splayed to hold her place. It was a rainy October afternoon and they’d both promised they’d try to deny their characters and be lazy. Fareeha seemed to be succeeding more so than her lover and she was curious as to what sort of scene she’d find in the bedroom.

She expected boxes or laundry piles or perhaps rearranged furniture. What she found was even better.

Angela stood with her back to the door, hands wrapped around to hold her corset closed. She turned her head at the sound of Fareeha’s entry and gave an oblivious smile. “Would you close this for me, please?”

“I need a minute.”

Fareeha found her feet were lead as she gazed upon Angela’s pale back, dusted with a few dark freckles. Down further her narrow waist splayed into gloriously wide hips and an ass that not even her little black shorts could cover. Angela turned then, and Fareeha was greeted with the front. A pale expanse of skin and cleavage down an intricate corset and thigh high boots.

“Fareeha.” There was that smile again to her voice. “It’s been a minute.”

Fareeha grinned back and finally stepped forward, wrapping Angela in her arms and holding the corset closed with one palm while the other rested over her breasts. “Your costume for the party?”

“What do you think?” Angela whispered at their closeness.

Cold air tickled her skin as the corset peeled away and was discarded on the floor. “Please don’t mistake my removal of it as dislike.” Fareeha’s voice was laced in lust, dark eyes shining with love as their foreheads came together in a request of permission, always given.

“Never.”


	47. Homecoming-E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Your prompts are just wonderful!! If you have the time, Angela getting home after being away on a long mission and frantically wanting Fareeha after being sexually frustrated for a week?

Angela tapped her nails angrily against the armrest of the cab as she peered out the window, mentally kicking herself. Why on earth had she suggested Fareeha not pick her up from the airport? She sighed and pressed her forehead to the cool glass window. It had been days. Ten days away from those dark eyes and strong arms. They talked, of course, but it wasn’t the same as being in the room with her, resting on her chest and smelling the spice of her deodorant. Feeling her heartbeat and the slow, slow breaths of someone in supreme shape.

Legs shuffled and clenched together as she watched the landscape pass her by. She’d certainly missed Fareeha in all the ways. It was a luxury to be able to make love nearly every day. One she’d most certainly taken for granted before this business trip. Her body grew tense from the lack of release it was accustomed to, and her own hands only did so much to ease the ache.

She was halfway out the door before the cab even came to a complete stop, grabbing her luggage and giving a generous tip to the cabby to compensate for her rudeness. The door was unlocked, and she kicked it closed with her foot, dropping her luggage on the floor and practically racing down the hallway. The house, as always, looked immaculate. Any messes stemmed from Angela herself, the soldier keeping her militantly orderly lifestyle. Said soldier sat on the couch, back straight despite relaxing, brow furrowed as she read the lines of a new novel. By the time she heard Angela’s entrance, she was being straddled.

Long, thick thighs wrapped around her own, the corners of the book poking painfully against her chest as Angela pulled them close and held her tightly. Fareeha chuckled and removed the book, dropping it onto the coffee table before holding Angela back. The doctor moaned at the familiar feeling of those strong, warm arms against her and kissed an ochre ear.

“I missed you,” Fareeha said first, nose pressed against Angela’s neck where the scent of her felt like home.

“I missed you, too,” Angela whispered back, fingers running through dark hair. With gentle, pressure, she guides Fareeha’s head to her cleavage, the soldier chuckling as she kisses the soft flesh.

“In more ways than one, I see.”

Angela purred, head dipping back as large hands gripped her breasts, palms sliding over nipples, sensitive even through her bra. She leaned back without fear, and an arm came around her, holding her torso in a near horizontal position as Fareeha lifted her shirt. Lips ghosted over her pale abdomen, circling her belly button and chuckling at the gasps Angela made. It wasn’t until Fareeha gave a soft, pleased moan that Angela knew what she really wanted. She bolted forward, catching the soldier off guard as she took her hands and pinned them on either side of her head. Fareeha opened her mouth in question but Angela silenced it with her own hard, hungry kiss. Fareeha could barely keep up with the savage pace but Angela didn’t care. Fareeha’s tongue tasted of her koshary tea, milky and minty and delectable as she scoured it with her own. It was messy, desperate, but Angela knew in the buck of Fareeha’s hips that it was entirely welcome, especially with the soldier nipped gently at her bottom her lip, a sign she wanted more.

And Angela gave it, fingers dropping to fumble with the hem of her shirt. She pulled it up and over quickly, catching Fareeha’s nose and making her hiss. Angela couldn’t help but chuckle at that, and kissed the reddening tip sweetly in apology. Fareeha laughed only to gasp as a tongue entwined its way through the bulges of her abs. Teeth skirted the sensitive muscle, nipped just hard enough to make them flex and Fareeha groan. Angela felt a hand on her hair, stroking the blonde tresses sweetly despite a clear eagerness. Her Fareeha was always gentle, unless Angela specified otherwise. Jeans hung low on boyish hips and Angela couldn’t help but sigh happily as she nosed a prominent hip bone, thumbs digging into Fareeha’s sides in anticipation. The gasps and moans were good, but she wanted more. She wanted desperate arching and thrusting and that soft, airy groan that Fareeha gave when she was oh so close to the edge.

“Off,” Angela commanded with a tug at the denim, making Fareeha maneuver around her to slide the pants down. She entertained the soldier’s neck in the meantime, the skin second nature to her as she bit and sucked on all the spots that made Fareeha writhe against her. Fareeha groaned a swear in her native tongue. Hips lifting as she slid the pants down, and Angela mercifully helped her with the rest of the way. Eager, Fareeha had pulled her underwear down with them, and Angela grinned at the sleek, black hair between her thighs. Fareeha reclined against the couch and began to part her thighs, only to whimper when Angela shook her head.

The doctor took pity on her desperation, leaning up for a reassuring, slow kiss. A single finger lined Fareeha’s bra, and the soldier understood. It followed the path of the jeans in a pile on the floor and Angela gave a pleased hum. Fareeha’s breasts were smaller than her own, but pert and soft, dark nipples salty sweet as she circled her tongue around them and made them peak. She still smelled Fareeha’s deodorant, and the cloying sweetness of koshary still hung heavy on her tongue. The skin beneath her palms was tight from strength and warm and smooth. Surrounded by it, it still wasn’t enough. Until she looked up into Fareeha’s eyes.

And it all came together then. In the soft, pervasive love that bled through even the darkest iris. Darker than the saiidi tea Fareeha sometimes entertained after a rough night, but just as rich, as full of life and silly jokes and nerdy quips about strategy. Fareeha who did the laundry but detested dishes. Who secretly had a fear of drowning, who always slept with one leg hooked over the covers. Her chess partner, her life partner, her everything when she needed her to be. Finally, Angela felt like she’d returned home.

She leaned up slowly, searching those eyes for as long as she could, until they closed in a grateful kiss. Angela hummed into her mouth, hoping Fareeha could feel the emotions that surged through her as she finally slid a hand downward. Fareeha was ready for her, giving a pleased moan as surgically precise fingers found her and began to move slowly. Angela watched on her knees, free hand tracing the dark expanse of skin. Sharp hips bones took their time and followed the languid pace. Fareeha licked her lips, eyes closed and face twitching every time Angela’s finger ghosted over her. Apparently, Fareeha missed her too, because her orgasm was building fast. It would be a short burst, the first of many today, but still, Angela retracted her hand before it got too far.

“Wha…” was all Fareeha could manage in her flustered state. Angela beamed up at those flushed cheeks and traced the design of the tattoo under her eye.

“You don’t want my tongue?” She teased.

Fareeha answered appropriately with a vigorous nod, sinking further down the couch and spreading her legs wider. Angela chuckled and gave another kiss to swollen lips before sliding downward. She didn’t make Fareeha wait, spreading her apart and slowly sliding her tongue upwards. Fareeha’s arousal was copious, soaking her chin and Angela groaned at the familiar taste. Fareeha’s and hers all in one. Fareeha hissed and tried to start her own pace, groaning in frustration when nails dug into her hips to slow her down. Angela was eager too, but she wanted to savor. She traced each and every fold and expense of skin with the tip of her tongue, delving inside and flattening it wide a few times to hear Fareeha hiss. When she finally trailed upward and circled her clit, Fareeha’s hand clamped onto her scalp. It was still gentle, but Angela understood that she couldn’t take anymore teasing, and happily relented with firm, quick strokes.

Fareeha breathed a sigh of relief, head dipping over the back of the couch and hips rocking eagerly. Angela could feel her thighs tensing around her and watched the plane of her abs clench and release with each swipe of the tongue. Her own hips bucked forward eagerly, skin stifling beneath her clothes and also begging to be touched. But she wanted Fareeha more. Wanted that spicy sweet smell and the tangy, subtle taste of her. The sounds that reached her ears and the feel of her palm against her head. It wasn’t close enough, and somehow it would never be, if they way they clung to each other at night was any indication. But it was enough for now. Especially when Fareeha’s pace increased and Angela heard that supplicating, wispy moan that meant she was close. A moment later and she’d arrived, body seizing but for her hips with ground hard against Angela’s mouth. The hand left her scalp to grip tightly at the couch cushion and Angela felt something burst inside of herself as well. A new, somehow deeper love for Fareeha. Their love continued to grow to surprising depths, and being away for so long seemed to have dug another trench in her heart. One that Fareeha happily filled.

She came down slowly, breathing hard but otherwise silent, fingertips tracing the outline of Angela’s face. When those dark eyes finally opened, Angela moved. Upward, to steal a lazy kiss, Fareeha kissed her back, tasting herself despite Angela’s cleaning while she came down, and reached down to pick her lover up. Angela gave a sound as Fareeha hoisted her into her lap. One that meant this was entirely welcome.

“I missed you,” Angela said this time, almost vulnerable in the way she clung to Fareeha’s neck.

“I’m here,” Fareeha answered, holding her tightly and lifting her up as she stood. Angela knew she would be carried to the bedroom and stripped of her clothes. They might have sex, they might simply lay there and try to merge souls with closeness . But as long as Fareeha was with her, back where she belonged in the forefront of each and every sense, Angela didn’t care.

She was home now.


	48. Change?-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: this one is a little angsty: they get married and adopt hana. years later, pharah and angela are constantly fighting and the relationship between the family worsens. ending is fluffy in some way

Fareeha cursed to herself as she fumbled with getting her key in the lock, much more difficult given that her wife neglected to leave the porch light on. Intentional, no doubt, and Fareeha cursed her in her drunken mind as finally, she unlocked the door. It was dark as she stepped inside, but the soft glow of lamp light emitting from the living room told her she was not alone. Fareeha made a face, not bothering to be quiet as she kicked off her boots and jacket and left them in a heap on the floor. Angela would yell at her about that too. Another fight waiting to happen. But she was keyed up from the rowdy bar and drinks and couldn’t find herself to care as she stumbled into the living room.

Angela was beautiful, hair shimmering gold from the lamp light and crystal blue eyes. She would never not be beautiful, but Fareeha found she didn’t care anymore. From the way those eyes lifted and scanned her own face, Angela felt the same. The book closed with a snap and Fareeha rolled her eyes.

“You’re home even later than Hana.”

The passive aggressive tone grated on her like nothing else. It always has. But Angela had never changed for anyone, let alone her wife. Fareeha sighed and held out her hands in apathy.

“At least she’s home.”

“She smelled of weed and beer,” Angela snapped, the judgment in her eyes evident that she blamed Fareeha.

“She’s a teenager.”

“She’s acting out. And you’re not helping!” Angela’s voice raised slightly, not quite a yell but it surged through Fareeha’s nerves because at least it was something. Something other than that mask of calm and soft spoken voice. Maybe, somewhere deep down, Angela still had feelings.

“I’m not helping? You’ve been out every night this week and I’ve had to deal with her on my own!”

“Surgeries!” Angela cried, baffled. “I was saving lives!”

Fareeha scoffed. “Don’t pull that shit. Don’t you pull that high and mighty shit. Being a good doctor doesn’t excuse you from being a shitty wife.”

Angela’s cheeks flushed red and her eyes narrowed. Fareeha smiled and nodded as she stepped closer.

“Blame me all you want but we both know you’ve been absent. Long hours at the hospital, always all call. I’m not stupid, Angela. You have to sign up to be on call. You just can’t stand to be a part of this family anymore, can you?”

“What family?” Angela seethed out, taking a step back from Fareeha’s impending form. “A lazy drunk and a daughter who hates me? You’re always out too, Fareeha.” She snapped her fingers to the clock that indicated the late hour.

“Because there’s nothing for me here!” Shouted now, the house shook slightly at the sound but Angela remains firm. “Fuck, Angela, you can barely stand to look at me.”

“Because you’re not the woman I married.”

“Yeah? Join the club.”

The admission rocked them both, but they were both too stubborn to show it. Instead Angela ran her fingers through her hair and shook her head. Fareeha watched her toy with the ring on her finger and felt a twinge of fear. She didn’t know if it was real emotion or the alcohol but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to take it if Angela took that ring off. It would mean the end of everything. It pulled at her chest and her body tensed in fear.

“You don’t get to do that,” she said, stepping forward again. Her steps are heavy from the drink, skidding along the carpet.

Angela shook her head again. “Don’t come near me.”

But Fareeha pressed. She didn’t know what she would do when she got to Angela, but she couldn’t let that happen. Wait until she was sober, after some sleep, when they were sure Hana was okay. Wait. Wait.

She was upon Angela now, so close that the alcohol burned the doctor’s nostrils. Angela shivered in fear but Fareeha couldn’t see something so subtle in her bleary vision. She reached a hand up to take her shoulder. Angela saw a threat and pushed.

Normally, her hands would have slapped off of Fareeha like a concrete wall, enough to convey a message and nothing more. But she was already heavy on her feet and the push sent her stumbling back into the wall. Angela’s eyes widened as Fareeha slumped down and in the momentary silence, they heard a gasp.

Both women looked up and saw Hana spying from the hallway. She’d witnessed the whole thing. Her family had been shit lately but never physical. The sight terrified her in a way she never knew before. Her eyes darted back and forth between them, feet planted to the floor as she tried to find words. Angela took a step, then another, desperate to go towards Fareeha and offer comfort. Anger melted from them both as they heard Hana speak.

“Were you trying to hurt her?” So meek and soft, like when they’d first adopted her. They didn’t know who she was talking to, and that alone sobered them both.

“I would never,” Fareeha said first. Dark eyes met blue and Angela nodded, stepping closer and crouching down.

“I’m so, so sorry,” she said, a hand reaching out only to find fear in the air. Fareeha closed the rest of the distance and took it. “I didn’t mean, I didn’t know–

“It wasn’t your fault. I’m a mess.” A brief pause before she added, “don’t think this means you’re stronger than me either.”

It was a gamble, but it worked. Angela’s eyes softened and the smallest of chuckles rumbled in her chest. Holding her hand felt good, especially when she ran her thumb over the ring, still firmly in place. Angela sighed and leaned forward, lips pressed against Fareeha’s temple. It burned them both, and relief flooded through their veins at still feeling something for the other.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed again. Fareeha reached up and cupped her cheek.

“Me too.”

“Hana.” It was Angela’s turn to gamble, and she did so with an outstretched hand. The teenager hesitated, then stepped forward, taking Angela’s hand and crouching down between the two of them.

It wasn’t planned, but each mother leaned over and kissed a cheek, and a tentative round of giggles followed. Angela sighed, eyes lifting nervously to Fareeha’s. “I’ve got five weeks of vacation built up.”

Fareeha grinned back. “I’ve got three.”

Hana smiled and crossed her arms. “Comic Con.”

“I was thinking Europe.”

“Why not Africa?”

“All three?” Hana suggested. The mothers looked at each other and shrugged. Why not. A vacation wouldn’t fix everything, but it was certainly a start.


	49. Incorrigible-G

“Fareeha, im showing an increase in heart rate. Do you need assistance?”

When Fareeha responds, gunfire is evident over the com. Still, her voice is light. So much so that Angela can hear the grin in her voice. “Just thinking about you, doctor.”

Reinhardt snorts in front of her and Angela gives his armor a playful smack with her staff. Fareeha never did care who was privy to her thoughts. Something learned in the military, perhaps. The computer in Angela’s Valkyrie suit pings and her eyes immediately dart to the skies. Reports from Fareeha’s Raptora suit indicate she is in distress. Reinhardt provides cover in front of her, and Genji bounds around behind them. Complacency makes Angela think she’s safe. She doesn’t see the wisps of dark matter forming old companion on her left, too concerned with finding Fareeha. It’s not until she hears that sinister chuckle that she turns, and by then she knows it’s too late. She stares down the smoking barrel of a shotgun and is almost ready to accept her fate when a concussive blast knocks Reaper back. The famous blue Raptora suit descends in front of her, standing guard as Reaper grumbles and disintegrates back to his now failing squad.

Angela is still reeling from her near death when Fareeha turns and smiles at her all too widely. “See something you like, doctor?” She asks with a wink.

In the middle of an eye roll, Angela sees the glint of a scope. She grabs Fareeha’s chin and pulls it down as the shot just misses. Fareeha’s eyes widen as Angela leads her by the chin behind cover and begins to heal her.

“You know, soldier, I can handle the flirting,” she says, eyes shining and a smile on her face that makes Fareeha sweat. She leans closer and taps the red spots on Fareeha’s chin from her sharp but life saving grip. “It’s the arrogance I can do without.”

Fareeha snorts and licks her lips in a single nod. “Can you handle more than flirting, doctor?”

“Why don’t you try and find out.”


	50. Undercover-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Pharmercy prompt: during an undercover mission, Pharah and the rest of the team hear Mercy getting mercilessly harassed/flirted with by some dude and Pharah is having none of that.

Angela is often the agent they put out in the open during undercover missions. While beautiful, she doesn’t have distinct features such as Fareeha’s tattoo or Lena’s unmissable accent. Give her a book, a latte, and an oversized sweater, and she blends seamlessly into the outdoor cafe seating area. The doctor, like the rest of her team, is a master of observation, scanning and searching for their target, a member of Talon who is supposed make a rather sensitive drop off.

Fareeha leans against the side of the cafe, sporting large aviators in an attempt to conceal her tattoo and an unsmoked cigarette dangling between her lips. Smoking deters people from looking at her, even though she hates the taste. Were she to actually inhale, Angela would have a few choice words for her. She smiles at the thought and pretends to play with her phone, modified with all sorts of espionage applications. A beam of light catches sharply in her her peripheral and she jerks away, sighing as she hears her mother’s chuckle over the com.

“Mother, you will blow our cover,” Fareeha chides, glancing up at the building across the street from the cafe. Ana, rifle at the ready, gives a wave and another chuckle.

“Ladies,” Jack interrupts gruffly. They don’t quite know where he is, but apparently they’re within his sights. Ana clicks her tongue in response, never really intimidated by Jack’s leadership, and Fareeha returns to her phone.

It’s up to Ana and Angela to spot the target and witness the interaction. Once confirmation is received, Fareeha will round the corner and subdue until Jack and Lena can arrive. Lena, with her superior chronal accelerator, is all the way down the block, able to jump here within moments. It’s a strategy they’ve used several times and with high success. Fareeha’s adrenaline is high, as it always is before a catch, and she smirks idly as Angela’s voice picks up on the com.

“Someone’s approaching me.”

Fareeha has a line about being too beautiful, but Ana beats her to the response and saves her from years of embarrassment. “Looks like a suitor, Angela.”

“Get rid of him,” Jack orders.

Fareeha rolls her eyes and is almost certain Angela would do the same if she had sunglasses on. No matter how many years they’ve done this, he still seems to think them inept. She pretends to drag on her cigarette as the unidentified male speaks and is picked up over their coms.

“Hey. May I get you a refill on your tea?”

“It’s coffee, and no, thank you,” Angela says shortly. Still, her voice is incapable of complete rudeness, and he doesn’t take the hint. There’s a squeak of a chair and Fareeha shifts closer to the end of the wall.

“Fareeha, keep position,” Ana warns. Too close and their cover is blown. They all know it. Fareeha grits her teeth and listens.

“I didn’t ask you to sit. Please leave.”

“Baby, don’t be like that. I’m a nice guy.”

“I don’t care. Leave me alone.”

“If you really wanted me gone you’d have left by now.”

“Fareeha,” Ana warns. Through her scope she can see her daughter tensing in fury. The desire to protect is strong in all Amaris and while Angela is usually more than capable of protecting herself, especially from scum bag suitors, their mission requires her to remain unnoticed. She cannot get up and leave or cause a scene by drop kicking him over a table–something Fareeha knows from experience the doctor is capable of.

“It’s my table. I shouldn’t have to leave it.” There’s the slightest twinge of frustration in Angela’s voice , and perhaps fear? Before she can be stopped Fareeha makes it to the edge of the cafe wall and peers around it.

“Soldier,” Jack huffs over the com, “do not compromise this mission.”

“You’re not my father, Jack,” Fareeha retorts, eyebrows lifting in her mother’s direction. “Unless…”

A mock gasp fills the com. “How dare you, habibti. I have standards.”

“Laugh it up,” Jack mutters, and between all of that Fareeha hears Angela’s tinkling chuckle. She looks over and sees that Angela, laughing at her team, has only confused the moron further. He grins and plucks the book from her hands to set it aside, chair scooting closer.

“See? Just playing hard to get. What say we leave this cafe for some brunch?”

“I already told you no,” Angela says, jerking her hand away when he tries to take it.

“This guy sounds like a right prick,” Lena finally says over the com. “Want me to get her out of there?”

“Everyone keep position. He’s harmless and moving in will blow our cover,” Jack orders.

Lena scoffs. “Harmless to you, maybe.”

Fareeha can’t help but nod as she watches Angela’s tense shoulders. She can handle herself. She absolutely can. Fareeha knows this, but also knows that Angela is limited in her responses right now. And she knows that no one should have to deal with this type of harassment regardless. The man smiles at Angela and reaches over to brush a golden lock from her face. He caresses her cheek as he brushes it behind her ear and Fareeha can’t help but see red. Especially when she sees Angela cringe.

“Soldier–

“Habibti–

"She’s doin’ it, ain’t she?”

Despite the chatter from her squad mates Fareeha darts forward. She wants to throw him over a table, onto the street, beat his face into the ground and ignore him when he tells her to stop. But she’s still a soldier. They still have a mission. She may have already ruined it but she can try her best not to make a scene.

“Sorry I’m late, baby,” she says, hand comfortingly circling Angela’s back. The grateful look Angela shoots her more than makes up for a failed mission, and she smiles as she leans over and pecks her on the cheek, surprised and suddenly red-faced to feel it returned. “Traffic.” To bring the point home that they were more than friends in this scenario, Fareeha lifts her sunglasses to eye the man as she lifts Angela’s hand and presses a lingering kiss to it. “This your friend?”

“No,” Angela says, not bothering to glance his way. “He was just leaving.”

“I thought so,” Fareeha answers, and isn’t surprised at how easy it is to mingle a jealous threat into her tone.

The man considers saying something but settles for shaking his head and finally moving to another seat. Fareeha watches him go as their strike commander sighs into the com. “Mission scrubbed. Target ran. Everyone back to base for debriefing.”

Fareeha knows she’s in for a long passive aggressive lecture about the old days but she can’t be bothered. Because Angela still hasn’t let go of her hand.


	51. Reunion-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: prompt for Pharmercy: The two of them meet up after years, and Angela's shocked to see how much Fareeha's grown while Fareeha is having thoughts of dating this beautiful lady she had a crush on when she was little

“Hello, Dr. Ziegler.”  
  
Angela’s stomach had been in knots all morning for this very moment. Fareeha Amari had joined Overwatch, against her mother’s explicit wishes. Angela’s heart stung for a moment. Ana Amari was dead, and perhaps that’s what made this reunion all the harder. Her last memory of Fareeha was when she was twelve. Right in the middle of her awkward stage, too tall and gangling and liked to duck her head when she walked. Angela remembered having commented on her posture and making the poor girl’s cheeks turn cherry red. Fareeha never spoke much around her. Trying to be cool, perhaps. Still, Angela could recall that accent anywhere, and since Ana was dead, it could only be one person.

She turned with a smile on her face, and felt her eyes widening as she gazed upon the soldier. Twenty years was plenty of time to grow out of an awkward stage and Fareeha was living proof. She was tall, broad shouldered but lean with muscle. Angela could see her biceps straining through the tight sleeves of her shirt, and the the way it clung to her trim waist. She was a physical marvel, and Angela couldn’t help but find herself somewhat eager for Fareeha’s physical. 

Then their eyes met.

Fareeha did not have her mother’s eyes. Ana’s were amber catching the sunlight. Fareeha’s were earthen, full of life and mystery. Cheekbones sharp  with lost baby fat and lips that curled into a polite smile. 

“Fareeha,” Angela breathed, stepping forward with arms outstretched.

Fareeha chuckled as she embraced the doctor. She’s older now, a touch of  silver to her hair and the slightest hint of wrinkles around her eyes. And somehow more beautiful than Fareeha remembered. But still Angela. Still too sweet, too trusting, and always quick to hug. It was with much embarrassment that Fareeha endured those hugs as a pre-teen, full of hormones and feelings she didn’t quite yet understand. While Angela, much more developed than her in all the ways, strutted around lovely and brilliant and kind. 

A crush, Fareeha thought at the time. One that stayed with her as she grew. She’d assumed it was out of nostalgia, a yearning for the fast paced, heroic life of an Overwatch agent. But as she held Angela again, this time taller, thoughts aligned, perhaps that crush never went away. Angela smelled of sterility and pressed white lab coats,  and the hair that brushed beneath Fareeha’s chin was soft. She could feel hard earned muscles pressing against her own, and it didn’t take a genius to recognize that this hug was lingering. 

Perhaps,  with time, this tentative friendship  could spark into something more.


	52. Outlet-E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: pharah/mercy hot angry make up sex against a wall

The fight had been stupid. But it was the catalyst to a million other annoyances. Voices raised, hands flying, stomping, a vase (admittedly one that they both hated) flung and shattered against the wall. 

Following the vase came Angela, the air leaving her lungs at the force. Fareeha silenced the gasp with a fierce kiss, tongues sliding and teeth clacking with force as they both tried to keep pace with the other. Angela’s fair skin was red and hot against Fareeha’s, muscles tense with anger and want and nails digging into her scalp. Her other hand clawed at Fareeha’s shirt pulling and ripping until the soldier finally relented enough to let her pull it over her head. 

Though Angela clawed and scratched all over, Fareeha could only use her mouth, her hands otherwise occupied by holding Angela up by her thighs against the wall. Still, she was not defenseless, and reminded Angela of that by biting down significantly on her neck, knowing full well that Angela _hated_  hickeys. Angela groaned and Fareeha felt a warning tug on her hair. Served her right for the red scorch marks forming forming along her shoulder blades. Angela felt the soldier smirk against her skin before receiving another bite, this time following by a sharp suck and a not so soothing tongue. 

“Don’t,” Angela commanded, pushing back on Fareeha’s shoulders. Their eyes met with Fareeha smirking, anger still burning hot in her dark eyes.

“Too late.”

Angela opened her mouth for a litany of swears in her native tongue but was silenced as Fareeha ground her hips against her sex. Her head dipped back, and Fareeha played to her advantage by giving her another mark on the other side of her neck. 

“Dammit,” Angela ground out angrily. “Stop it–ahh…”

Words failed her again as Fareeha let one thick thigh drop and brought her hand between her legs. She wasted no time on foreplay, Angela’s arousal indicating it wasn’t necessary, and pressed her fingers inside of her to begin a furious pace. Angela let out a cry at the burning fullness that coupled with immense pleasure, legs tightening around Fareeha’s waist. Still, she would not be bested, and she leaned forward to bite down hard on the ridge of muscle over Fareeha’s shoulder. Fareeha grunted in pain, body lurching forward to try and escape those sharp teeth but Angela held firmly, gripping Fareeha’s hair to jerk her head back.

“Fuck you,” she managed between cries.

Fareeha only smirked. “Uh-uh, _ya amar_. Fuck _you.”_

Angela’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as Fareeha curled her fingers, hoisting Angela up with one muscled arm to give her more depth inside of that clinging wetness. She knew exactly what Angela needed, and with the both of them so keyed up, it didn’t take long for Angela to come, body trembling and legs quaking around Fareeha. She kept silent though, not daring to give Fareeha the satisfaction. But Fareeha didn’t need the sound, she had the feeling of Angela clenching around her fingers, the wetness that dripped down her wrist and the hot, freshly-fucked expression on Angela’s face. 

Her smugness was her downfall. Fighting through Fareeha’s fingers and those glorious aftershocks, Angela pushed her foot against the wall and knocked Fareeha off balance. Once her feet hit the floor she turned and pressed Fareeha against the wall, nails raking down her exposed sternum as the other hand worked her pants down. 

“You never listen,” Angela hissed, getting one pant leg off before deciding it was good enough. Fareeha pushed against her hand and Angela shoved back, surprising the soldier with her force and surprising her even more as she watched the blonde descend onto her knees. her normally light blue eyes were dark, lovely brows etched fury and she lacked her normal compassion when she flung Fareeha’s free leg over her shoulder and pressed her mouth to her sex. 

Fareeha’s engaged leg shook at the contact, and she hissed as she dipped her head back and let Angela’s tongue explore her. She was not gentle. Hard, quick flicks of her tongue stroked directly against Fareeha’s clit and Fareeha jumped with each swipe. It felt amazing, but too amazing. Her nerves were overloaded, brain swarming with pleasure and pain and unable to decide on which one. 

“Angela, I–

The doctor dipped her head back for just a moment, finger resuming where her tongue left off to make sure that Fareeha never had a moment’s peace. And Fareeha knew all pleas would fall on deaf ears as she heard Angela repeat, “Fuck _you.”_  

Then she was back, uncaring of the harsh slurping sounds or the mess that coated her chin and slid down her neck. She didn’t care if it was sloppy or if Fareeha was coming too quickly. She just wanted to win. She was so, so angry. And Fareeha’s smug was was so… Angela skimmed her teeth over Fareeha’s clit. The soldier tensed and cried out, fisting Angela’s hair and pulling sharply in warning. Angela dug  her nails into Fareeha’s thigh in response, leaving crescent  shaped indents before scratching down. 

It was too much, and despite her best efforts and iron will, Fareeha gave in, toppling over the edge of a quick and hard orgasm that had her bearing nearly all of her weight on Angela’s neck and shoulder. But Angela didn’t care. She continued her assault on Fareeha’s clit until the sensitivity forced Fareeha to push her off. She landed on her ass, arms braced behind her, and panting. Fareeha sunk to a crouching position against the wall, breathing hard as her clit pulsed angrily. A blessed, calm silence passed between them. Anger dissipated with each exhaled breath and each tender tingle of good sex that shot through their nerves. Angela’s hair was completely mussed, thrown to one side and gracing over her shoulder. Fareeha’s fared better but one of her braids had come undone, leaving a lovely strip of waves next to her udjat. Both though the other was beautiful. Neither could remember what they just argued about. 

Fareeha spoke first, voice hoarse from screaming. “Tie?”

Angela smiled. “Tie.”


	53. Overprotective-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Pharmercy. Over protective mums watching over a newborn child. maybe hana?

“Was that a cough?”

“I think so.”

“She’s coughed three times in the last eight hours.”

Fareeha lifts her eyes from the small bundle in her arms to eye her wife, her voice harried with worry. “You’re the doctor. What does that mean?”

Angela blanches for a moment, all of her copious amounts of medical training falling by the wayside every time she looks into that new life. Her eyes are sealed shut, chest rising and falling as she sleeps in the warm strength of her mother. Angela steps over and admires her light sepia skin, thumb brushing through dark locks that are no doubt Fareeha’s. Her eyes were blue when she was born, as most infants’ are, and while they may remain Angela’s shade, the doctor wouldn’t mind if they darkened to Fareeha’s all-seeing ochre.

“Nothing. She’s fine. She’s perfect.” Angela seals her words with a calming kiss to Fareeha’s lips. “She’s ours.”

Fareeha hums at that and oh so carefully passes their daughter to her other mother. Angela glows as she receives her, leaning down to press her lips against chubby cheek. “It’s a nice day,” Angela says when she pulls away. “Maybe we should take her for a walk?”

Fareeha nods before worrying her bottom lip. She never thought she’d be one of those mothers that hovers and worries. But, too, did she never realize just how much she would love this child. It’s daunting, her devotion to this family. She is their protector. And their newborn is so, so small. “What if she gets hurt? Or someone…”

Fareeha concern is contagious, and Angela’s eyes widen before dropping down to their daughter again. Neither notice the teenager sauntering into the room with a bowl of cereal.

“So what if she does?” Hana says through her last milky bite before dropping the bowl in the sink. “Hey, hey, easy,” she adds as both women affix her with an aghast glare. “I don’t mean like that.”

“Then explain,” Fareeha commands.

Hana rolls her eyes and leans against the countertop before pointing a finger at Angela. “You can literally bring back people from the dead. And you,” she turns her finger to Fareeha, “you have a very particular set of skills that you have acquired over a long career. Skills that would make you a nightmare for anyone who tried to harm your kid. Aside from your nauseating love for her, a genius doctor and badass super soldier are, like, world’s best parents material. So just chill and put her in a stroller. Damn.”

Another roll of her eyes and Hana is off, disappointed that her perfectly used movie quote went unnoticed. Despite the rather indelicate way it was delivered, neither Angela nor Fareeha can say that Hana is wrong. Their daughter is perfect, and they are worried for her. But that worry shouldn’t get in the way of anyone’s life, especially hers.

“Park?” Angela asks after a moment.

“Park,” Fareeha agrees with a grin.


	54. She Loves Her-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: can I request a pharmercy prompt where they're already together, pharah sees mercy and gets a bunch of feelings for the bae and cant help but be super affectionate and happy n stuffs

It happens while she sleeps. Blonde hair curtained around her cheeks, full lips parted, sometimes drool, sometimes not. She always sleeps with one arm tucked under her head, and more often than not will wake in the middle of the night to find it asleep. Fareeha watches her sleep, knowing full well she was in surgery for hours yesterday, and trails her fingertip over pale knuckles. “Mmm, two more CCs of…” Angela mumbles, turning over and slotting herself against Fareeha’s front. Fareeha’s heart leaps as her arm comes around the doctor’s waist, hugging her close. Angela will likely sleep for a few more hours. Fareeha has already been up for two, but she will wait forever.

It happens while she’s working. Brow furrowed and pen cap nestled between her teeth. She’s a genius, so papers fly quickly through her fingers, blue eyes darting back and forth at an amazing speed. She sits with a straight spine and one leg crossed over the other. Angela blinks a lot, and Fareeha chuckles as she remembers their fatal talk about glasses, which she absolutely does not need. A dark hand covers her current page and Angela sighs sadly, not wanting to turn down her lover. But still, she must. “Darling, I’m so sorry, but I simply must–

She lifts her head at the beckoning of fingertips beneath her chin and her shoulders sag in relief when she meets Fareeha’s lips. It’s a short kiss, but stunning all the same, and Angela loses herself in her lover’s stunning features as she pulls away. “That’s all I needed,” Fareeha says, sorting Angela’s papers back into a neat pile. She winks once, mouth crooked in a smirk. “For now.”  
The dazed and wanting expression she leaves on Angela’s face is nothing short of perfection.

It happens when she’s reading. Curled up on the side of the couch with her feet tucked under her, a single dark finger lined and ready to turn the next page. Her book is good, and she doesn’t realize she’s not alone until a mug of tea is placed at her side. Fareeha glances over at its milky color and smiles, because it’s made just how she likes. Arms encircle her from behind, and she flips the book over on her thigh as she leans back into that warm embrace. Angela kisses her cheek lazily, hums at Fareeha’s spicy, citrus scent, and runs her palms down toned biceps. Fareeha closes her eyes to lose herself in that ever present scent of sterility that lingers on Angela, coupled with her mild vanilla shampoo. “Thank you,” she murmurs as she turns her head for a better kiss. Angela grants it quickly, holding Fareeha tightly, even though Fareeha has no plans of escape.

“I love you,” Angela says when she pulls away. And Fareeha finds herself at a loss for words despite all this time. That someone so beautiful, so kind and good, could love her and think that Fareeha hung the moon as well. How did she ever get so lucky to be chosen by this woman? The lingering look in those crystal blue eyes tells her that Angela wonders the same about her. Fareeha sits up a bit, and with her gentle, controlled strength, pulls Angela over the couch. Angela comes willingly, trusting her lover, and smiles as she bounces against the cushion. Fareeha grins down at her and Angela giggles with a flush to her cheeks.

“You’ll lose your place,” she teases as Fareeha sets her book aside.

“I’ll find it again.”

“Your tea will get cold.”

“I’ll warm it back up.”

Angela sits up and moves herself into Fareeha’s lap. There are so many things Fareeha wishes she had the courage to say. Sappy, cheesy things that have been repeated over and over but still hold meaning to her. Poetry that she is terrible at but feels all the same. Thoughts and feelings and words that, no matter how deeply felt, dissipate into incoherency when those eyes lock onto hers. Angela touches her cheek sweetly, brow furrowing in concern. She needn’t ask if Fareeha is okay. They’ve long since moved past needing words, and Fareeha closes her eyes as a thumb trails along the udjat beneath her eye.

“I just…sometimes I…”

She can’t. She is not a poet or songwriter. She’s a soldier with surprisingly soft hands and an awkward side kept hidden to most. Except Angela. Her Angela who smiles softly and feels goosebumps rise when Fareeha idly rubs her thigh.

“You don’t have to say anything,” she whispers at their closeness. “I feel it, too.”

Fareeha exhales a shaky breath, leaning forward until their foreheads brush. She loves this woman. In all ways, in all hours of the day. When she’s made up, when she’s haggard, when she’s screaming with tears in her eyes and when she’s laughing so hard she curls into a ball on the floor. She loves her through thick and thin, better or worse, forever.

She loves her.


	55. Finish What You Start-E

Fareeha comes awake with a jog of her hips. Her eyes open and blink away bleariness as she tries to focus on what exactly woke her. Her hips jog again and Fareeha’s eyelids flutter as she catches sight of a blonde, slept-in ponytail between her legs. She opens her mouth to ask what brought this on, but a moan escapes instead. Blue eyes lift and find her own and Angela removes herself with a lewd smack.

“Good, you’re awake.”

Arousal coats her chin and shimmers in the pre-dawn light and Fareeha has to close her eyes to focus enough to formulate a response. “How could I not be?”

“I’m horny.”

“I noticed.”

“May I continue?”

Fareeha’s eyes snap open and affix her lover with a cheeky grin. Angela watches as dark, toned thighs spread wider for her. “Please.”

Angela’s smile is pure sex as she leans down again, keeping her ass in the air for Fareeha’s enjoyment. Fareeha slides up a bit to rest her back against the headboard and admires the thick swell of Angela’s ass. Child bearing hips and thick thighs are not something that can be exercised away and Fareeha is so, so grateful as she watches Angela’s ass move slightly with her ministrations. A tongue surrounds her clit and Fareeha hisses, eyes clamped in pleasure as she begins a steady rhythm with her hips.

Pale hands slide up slender hips and grip the tender bone, causing Fareeha to lift and jerk. She hears as much as she feels Angela’s sultry chuckle against her sex as nails dig into her hips again. It’s slow and smooth, a good wake up call, but eventually, Fareeha’s orgasm builds. She places a hand on Angela’s head to signal it and Angela responds with faster strokes of her tongue. Fareeha throws her head back, hips thrusting hard against Angela’s mouth and through her moans and hums and erratic breaths she swears she can hear that laugh again. Because nothing delights Angela more than watching her strong lover come undone. The tensing of her muscles and the way her elegant body moves, the sounds that are only for her ears. Angela’s eyes open slowly as she feels Fareeha come. She watches those glorious hips swivel and her beautiful face contort in pleasure, feels the hand on her head that is always gentle, even when Fareeha loses control. Fareeha comes down with a whimper and a grin, sinking back into the bed. And already she’s gently tugging on Angela’s hair, beckoning her upward.

Angela obeys and doesn’t bother with wiping her mouth, because she knows Fareeha enjoys cleaning it for her. They kiss slowly, oblivious to things like morning breath or sleepy laziness, just reveling in the feel of the other. Then Angela feels those strong hands on her ass, pushing her further upward, and she looks to Fareeha curiously.

“It’s my turn,” is all Fareeha offers, and Angela can’t help but shiver as she watches Fareeha slide onto her back. She watches Angela’s hips work upward slowly, delighting in their shape and feel as they move past her lap and up her stomach to her chest. Fareeha pushes again and Angela sits up on her knees, walking upward until she’s straddling Fareeha’s face. A quick glance to make sure this is what her soldier wants, and Angela lowers herself onto that waiting mouth.

Fareeha groans at first contact because Angela is soaking wet and already it’s dripping down her chin. She grips those thick, glorious hips and begins to rock them as her tongue moves. Angela lets out a soft whimper, hands sliding up her stomach to cup her own breasts. Her jaw is beautiful from this angle, sharp and defined, and Fareeha presses harder against her. Her hands slide behind Angela to her ass, cheeks far too big for the palms of her hands and she loves it. She grips and squeezes and pulls and even gives a few slaps just to feel that heated flesh bounce against her palm.

For her part Angela keeps her hips moving, keeps up the lovely sight of engaged abs and working sex lines and bouncing breasts. Fareeha groans as she quickens pace and watches Angela lean forward to grip the headboard for leverage. Fareeha’s nails drag down her lower back to her ass, desperate to somehow be closer to this woman than she is now. Angela cries out and begins a bounce against her mouth. Fareeha locks her arms around her to keep her down as she presses hard against Angela’s clit. And with a lovely cry, Angela comes, body shuddering overtop her lover and gentle whimpers escaping with each pulse of pleasure. Fareeha smiles against her and presses a kiss to her sensitive clit, causing Angela to jump. They both chuckle as Angela slides off and moves lower until she can rest her head on Fareeha’s heated chest.

A few minutes of silence pass before Angela gives a satisfied hum and kisses the underside of Fareeha’s chin. “Good morning.”

“Good morning to you, too.”

“Thank you.”

Fareeha chuckles and holds tighter to her lover. “Thank me? You’re the one who started it.”

“Yes but you certainly finished it.”

Fareeha chuckles and presses a kiss to the top of Angela’s head. Then she sits up and swivels her legs off the bed and onto the floor, Angela in her lap the entire time. She locks her arms under Angela’s thighs and stands, absolutely dying for the way Angela holds tightly to her and kisses her neck. With careful maneuvering she eases them both around the furniture and towards the bathroom. They need a shower just as much as they deserve one.


	56. Mistletoe-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Pharmercy first kiss under mistletoe?

The party is in full swing by the time Fareeha arrives. She can hear the familiar sounds of her friends inside along with embarrassingly loud Christmas music. Loudest of all is Lena and she shakes her head fondly as she works her way up the steps. She’s about to lift her hand to knock when she’s alerted to footsteps behind her.

“Hello, Fareeha,” Angela practically sings as she glides up beside her with such ease they may as well be in the air. “Running fashionably late as well?”

“I had to work up the nerve to wear this in public,” Fareeha says with a smile, gesturing to her ugly sweater, the theme of the party. Red and green and lined with reindeer and a few jingling bells, Angela giggles as she flicks one to hear the tinkling chime.

“Should have worn a coat.” Angela unbuttons her own in response and reveals a gaudy snowman beneath with a stuffed carrot nose that sticks out to poke those who get too close. Fareeha snorts and they both share a laugh before Fareeha puts a hand on the small Angela’s back to bring her in and knocks on the door.

Lena answers in a moment, sleigh bells around her neck, reindeer antlers on her head, a cup of spiked eggnog in her hand, an a sweater featuring a nude and anatomically correct baby Jesus.

“Hey! ‘Bout time we had someone show up together!” She beams, cheeks red from the effects from her drink.

Fareeha’s hand drops from Angela’s back as Angela tries to sputter something out, the both of them burning in embarrassment. As she tries to step inside, Fareeha is stopped by Lena’s hand and waggling eyebrows. “Uh-uh, captain. There’s an entry fee. You, too, doc.”

Their eyes dart upward to the mistletoe taped over the door and Fareeha sighs before looking apologetically to Angela. Mercifully, Angela just laughs quietly and stands on her toes to kiss Fareeha on the cheek. The corners of their lips touch and Fareeha fights the urge to chase her back down. Lena blows a raspberry and crosses her arms, oblivious to the eggnog she splashes across the floor. “It’s a party. Have some fun! Come on!”

The other party goers have stopped to look, cheering and raises their glasses or chanting. Angela’s face is cherry red and the only thing that spurs Fareeha into action is when she sees the doctor shiver from the cold despite her jacket. She turns with a sigh and gives a nod to Angela, not unlike the one she gives her before battle.

“May I?”

Angela nods, smiling softly. She will always feel safe with Fareeha. Even though her heart is racing, palms clammy. Kissing Fareeha before had sent her mind reeling, the feel of her warm skin despite the chilly weather and her soft scents. And now Fareeha leans in again. Angela feels her arms around her waist and a moment later she’s being dipped. Fareeha takes one step and lowers her down playfully, to the cheer of the party. It’s to get Angela into the warmth of the house, and indeed only her heels are still in the jamb. But she doesn’t anticipate Angela’s arms around her neck or the one leg that comes up to grip at her hip. Fareeha’s mouth goes dry, but she’s already committed, and she licks her lips quickly before she descends, praying they aren’t too chapped.

The sound of cheers when they kiss is deafening, but Fareeha cannot hear beyond her own thundering heart. She can only register Angela and the feel of her closeness. Subtle perfume and the leather from her coat, lips soft and a bit waxy from chapstick or lip gloss. Fareeha can’t help but moan a little, because a quiet part of her had always dreamed of this moment. And Angela surprises her by moaning back, mouth parting. Fareeha wants to dive in, to consume that which Angela is offering, but she’s pulled from it by a slap on the back.

“That’s what I’m talking about! Come on in, you lovebirds!” Lena cheers, still cackling as she heads back for more eggnog.

Curious eyes are still upon them, loaded with questions as much as holiday cheer, and Fareeha clears her throat when she straightens, righting Angela and making sure she has her footing before letting go. Angela sighs and licks her lips, slightly disheveled as she runs a hand through her hair. Fareeha wonders if she should apologize or give her space. If what she thought was so wonderful was merely an act now turned awkward to Angela. But then blue eyes lift and those lovely lips, now coated with a sheen, part to reveal that glorious smile.

“I didn’t know you had it in you, Fareeha.”

Fareeha chuckles, feeling daring by the look in those blue eyes. “I’m full of surprises.”

“I bet you are,” Angela says wistfully, eyes roaming without care the soldier’s body.

“If you’re interested, I could…show you a few more?” Fareeha’s nerve dwindles a bit on the execution, but it’s still effective as Angela beams and finds her hand.

“I’d like that. But first, a drink.”

‘And more mistletoe,’ they both quietly hope to themselves.


	57. Vacation-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: pharmercy on vacation: lounging on the beach, getting ice cream, making love in the hotel room, showering/bathing together. cute fluff Bonus: Hana is there too and grossed out over her moms' pda

“I could watch you eat ice cream all day.”

Angela turns and rolls her eyes playfully at her wife before she sticks her tongue out for another taste. It’s double chocolate mint and despite being under the shade of a massive umbrella, it’s melting quickly under the summer sun. Angela slides her tongue around the scoop, pausing any drips in their tracks. Dark fingers curl around a pale wrist and pull her treat away. Fareeha kisses the ring on Angela’s finger before delving lower, the tip of her tongue sliding around to collect a drop of ice cream that Angela missed.

“I could watch you clean me up all day.”

Brown eyes shine mischievously as Angela gets her wrist back and to keep her from losing control, Angela looks out into the ocean. Hana, thankfully easily identifiable by her pink bikini and surfboard, is catching yet another wave. Angela’s happy for her. The embarrassment of her mothers’ love has traumatized her the past few weeks. Especially when she walked into the hotel room early and found them in a rather compromising position. Angela sighs in sympathy and glances at Fareeha again. They can’t help it. It’s their first vacation in years, and their love is stronger than ever.

“Wanna head back to the room?” Fareeha purrs as her lips caress Angela’s jaw. Angela shivers but forces herself to pull away.

“We promised Hana we’d behave.”

Fareeha huffs playfully even as she rolls between Angela’s legs, pushing herself up on her arms to put them at equal height. “A kiss then. To keep my sated.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

Fareeha grins widely and Angela can’t help but laugh as she pulls her in by the chin. They both can taste chocolate mint from the ice cream, the stickiness of sugar that’s slowly smoothed away by careful tongues. Angela curls a dark strand of hair around her finger to keep Fareeha close and ignores the ice cream melting down her wrist.

Until, that is, it’s snatched away entirely. Angela pulls away to get a look at her ice cream thief and softens when she sees Hana. Soaking wet and wearing a somewhat playful scowl, she takes a large bite out of the scoop and speaks between chews.

“I deserve this. You two are disgusting.”

Angela chuckles as Fareeha rolls off and back onto her towel, shit eating grin plastered on her face. “You’ll understand when you find love, Hana.”

Hana snorts but there’s a shine to her eyes as she agrees to Angela’s beckoning and sits beside her, the three of them enjoying more than they let on this wonderful vacation.


	58. Movement-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Pharmercy pregnant Mercy, Pharah feeling the baby move (fluff)

It’s early, before sunrise, and Angela can’t sleep. It happens enough times for her to be unconcerned. The result of culminated stress. Her body can handle more than most, and subsequently, requires less sleep than most. So she sits up with a quiet sigh and reaches for her book with a small little light attached to the back. As quietly as she can muster, she sits up, the bed creaking only slightly as she rests her back against the headboard. From the dull light of her little lamp, she can see Fareeha’s relaxed face,  her slow, even breathing. Affection grips at her and longs to touch, but just because she can’t sleep doesn’t mean that Fareeha shouldn’t. So she lets her wife be and finds her page.

Fareeha is a notoriously light sleeper, however, and when Angela gives a soft whimper, dark eyes open and quickly clench again at the light. Still, she rises, leaning over and wrapping a muscled arm around Angela’s now rotund belly. 

“You okay?” she murmurs, voice heavy with sleep. She feels a kiss to the top of her head that soothes her nearly back to sleep. 

“I’m sorry I woke you. She kicked a nerve. Go back to sleep.”

“She kicked?”

Now suddenly awake, Fareeha sits up and leans over Angela to turn on the bedside lamp, bathing the bedroom in soft gold. Angela closes her book and sets it aside as Fareeha slides the covers down and lifts her ratty t-shirt (stolen from Fareeha) up underneath her breasts. She can’t help but shake her head at the sight. Angela, normally so petite save for those mercifully childbearing hips, swollen with a child.  _Their_  child.  Her normally inward belly button protrudes out a bit now and as Fareeha dips her head she can make out silver lines of stretch marks rising up from her side to cover her belly in a glorious sheen. 

Fareeha’s palms are large, and she spreads her fingers wide as she lays a hand on Angela’s stomach and waits. Angela smirks knowingly when, after twelve seconds, disappointment crosses her wife’s lovely features. 

“I was reading a romance scene when it happened,” she whispers for no real reason other than to not squander this quiet moment. “Perhaps if you…”

Fareeha turns to her with a smile. “Say no more.” She leans in, hand caressing Angela’s stomach as their lips meet. Slow and tender, chaste for fear of morning breath, but full of smiles and racing hearts as if it was their first night together all over again. She feels Angela’s hand over top of hers and allows her to guide it to the side, where after a few more kisses, she feels a kick. And then another. A third. Fareeha pulls away with a shuddered gasp and shakes her head. 

“Wow.”

Angela’s smile is a new one. A maternal one, soft and knowing despite not knowing anything at all. But it’s a mother’s smile. One that is in place to comfort a child who knows even less than her first time mother. Fareeha feels as if she’s about to burst from love. How can she have so much for Angela and still find the room to love this little basketball? Love that will only grow and grow and grow. 

“You should go back to sleep.” 

“Not when my girls are awake.” 

With another soft kiss, Fareeha rests her head gently on Angela’s stomach, and sings softly in her mother tongue. 


	59. Morning Person-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: pharmercy - angela is grumpy in the morning and fareeha wants to make her feel better

“Angela.”

The noise that Angela emitted was a cross between a growl and a groan. She didn’t know what time it was, but it was definitely too early, and she dug her feet into the mattress, further burying her head under her pillow.

“Don’t be like that.”

Another growling groan. Fareeha smiled and tugged the sheets down to reveal a pale, thick thigh. She pressed her palm upon  it and was only slightly dismayed when the doctor pulled away petulantly. She knew now not to let little slights like this hurt her feelings, as Angela was clearly not Angela when in these pre-awake states. Rather, she was a little demon. Or perhaps a baby. A demon baby? Fareeha didn’t know, but she did know that all Angela was missing at this point was devil horns and a tail. 

“You wanted this. You said, and I quote, ‘Liebling, please do not let me sleep past ten tomorrow. I have lots to do.’ It is now 10:02 and you’re making an irresponsible woman out of me.”

“I’ll make a maimed woman out of you if you don’t leave me alone.”

Fareeha chuckled, tugging at the pillow Angela had in an iron grip over her head. Angela couldn’t bear to leave earthworms stranded on the sidewalk, let alone _hurt_ someone intentionally. “She speaks.” 

“Fareeha, please.”

“Nope. You made me promise while you were still lucid. You want this. You really do.”

“No, I really don’t.”

Fareeha’s hand traveled up that wonderful thigh to a wide hip, where she gave a comforting squeeze. “You can do it. Don’t make me lift you.”

When no response was forthcoming, Fareeha realized she was losing this battle. Angela could sleep through anything, including well-meaning but annoying girlfriends. Time to pull out the big guns. Fareeha’s hand slid further upward until fingers lined in the dips of Angela’s ribs. She took a deep breath, free hand braced on Angela’s legs, and tickled. 

Angela yelped, attempting to kick out of instinct. But Fareeha’s well-placed hand kept them at bay as she wrenched the pillow away and onto the floor. A slew of Swiss German left Angela’s mouth as she rolled around on the bed, trying to escape those dexterous fingers. But Fareeha was an expert, and she leaned over Angela, pinning her somewhat with her upper body as she continued her assault.

“Are you awake?” she asked quietly near Angela’s ear. 

“Fareeha, I swear I–

“Uh-uh. Are you awake?”

“Yes, you a _rschgesicht!”*_

“I see your clever retorts are still waking up. Come along.”

Angela huffed, a cute pout marking normally lovely features. She was well and truly angry, but Fareeha anticipated this. And she knew Angela like Angela knew her. And she knew that no matter how angry, Angela adored being pampered. So when she slid her arm under Angela’s knees and pressed the other against her back, it was no surprise that the doctor leaned into her and let herself be carried from bed. Not wanting to add insult to injury, Fareeha merely kissed her blonde temple and held her close as she made her way into the kitchen. She kept a keen eye on Angela’s crumpled expression, waiting for it to change.

And indeed, when they entered the kitchen, Angela’s eyes, crinkled from her furrowed brow, widened in surprise, then melted in defeat. She looked up at Fareeha and shook her head, wanting to still be mad, but having no chance. 

Fareeha had made her breakfast, eggs and bacon and a stack of chocolate chip pancakes topped with strawberries. Rich coffee, still black but set aside with creamer and the pound of sugar Angela usually added that kept her curvaceous figure in check.

“That was a dirty trick,” she pouted, even as her thumb caressed the back of Fareeha’s neck sweetly. 

Fareeha smiled and when she leaned down for a kiss, it was granted. “I thought it was pretty good.” 

“It was. Thank you, _liebling_.”

“My sincerest pleasure.”


	60. Farewell-E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Nsfw prompt where Angela gives Fareeeha head in the hanger the night before Fareeha has to go on a mission without her and almost gets caught several times.

As Fareeha buffed out a scratch on her armor, she heard a familiar noise behind her. One she’d been hearing ad nauseum as of late. An adorable little huff followed by an utterly pathetic whimper. Fareeha smiled softly to herself before turning around, eyes consoling as she eyed her lover. 

 “Angela,” she says slowly, watching that blonde ponytail swish as Angela shakes her head. 

 “I know. You have to go. It’s just been so long since we’ve been apart. I don’t know what I’ll do without you.“ 

 “My mother is a good medic,” Fareeha consoles, “and I have a feeling she’ll baby me just as much as you do.” 

 Despite the jest, Fareeha opens her arms for Angela to step into. Angela sighs at the warm strength of her lover, the comfort they bring when they tighten around her, Fareeha’s soft scent. She grips at the fabric of her shirt, stretching it in an attempt to somehow be closer, and Fareeha places a kiss to the top of her head. 

 “Everything will be fine.” Rather than calling Fareeha out on promises she has no control over keeping, Angela simply stands on her toes for a searing kiss. It catches Fareeha off guard, the sheer force, the desperation, the clacking of teeth and depth of tongue, and she stumbles back a bit into her work desk. Angela chuckles deeply in her throat and disappears. When Fareeha finally wills her eyes open and clears her mind, she looks down to find Angela on her knees, pulling the elastic of Fareeha’s sweats down her thighs. 

 “ _Angela,_ ” Fareeha hisses, jumping back a bit and looking around the hangar. While it’s true she’s in a back corner and the work desk hides her from the waist down, they’re still out in the open. And everyone is prepping to go, meaning that there will be people in and out. But Angela doesn’t care. Her heart aches already at Fareeha’s absence and her helplessness to ensure her safety. And Fareeha’s nonchalant attitude isn’t helping. She wants her one last time, to remind her of what–who she is leaving behind. And who she absolutely must return to. 

 Angela parts Fareeha’s legs as far as the elastic will allow, and presses her tongue to her folds before any protest can be made. Pale fingers slide up dark thighs, gripping the rock hard muscle as she simply teases, tongue laving in and out and over but never quite reaching where Fareeha needs. Fareeha groans, hands going to that blonde head to grip tightly. She pulls a bit, a warning for Angela to hurry up, and gets only a chuckle to her core instead. Fareeha isn’t aroused yet, of course, and she takes her time lubricating with her own tongue. Fareeha will be gone for days; they can spare a few more precious moments here. 

 The door to the hangar opens, and Fareeha nearly slams Angela’s head against the desk with how quickly she turns around, bringing Angela with her. Now pressed between those lovely thighs and her work desk, Angela chuckles continues, despite knowing full well someone is coming. Someone other than Fareeha, that is. Fareeha leans forward, elbows resting on the hard metal of the desk, and waves awkwardly with her wrist. Jack nods, assault rifle slung over his shoulder, and makes for the ship. Fareeha sighs, eyes clenched shut at her near miss, and lets out a moan as Angela matches onto her clit, sucking hard. Jack hitches at that, and Fareeha waves him away.

 “Soldier, you okay?” 

 “J-just, ah,” Fareeha jerks a bit because Angela is unrelenting and all too amused for the situation. “Um–fuck–cramps.” 

 Jack does an abrupt about-face and heads back to the ship. 

 Angela chuckles against Fareeha’s now wet center and grips at her ass. Alone again, Fareeha tries to rock her hips against that sinful tongue, to speed the process and save her the embarrassment of getting caught. 

“Angela, _please._ ”   
  


 “Mm-mm,” muffled against her center. Fareeha trembles around her, thighs clenched against her ears, and she’s loving it far too much to stop. When she’s under her lover, pleasing her, moments pass like days, and she can pretend that they’ve all the time in the world. Fareeha tips her head back, fingers scratching Angela’s scalp as her hips rock. Forgetting herself, she lets out a series of whimpers, relishing in Angela’s tongue until she hears the click of another approaching. 

 “Don’t worry, habibti,” Ana soothes. Fareeha’s eyes snap open and Angela struggles not to whimper as nails dig into her hair. 

“M-mother.” Ana smiles sweetly, having heard her daughter’s cries and seeing her flushed face. “I will take care of you. I know it’s been long since you and Angela have been apart– 

 Angela takes this moment to work her tongue in a way that makes Fareeha grunt and tense. Ana doesn’t seem to notice even as it drives Fareeha ever closer. 

 “–and it will be hard, but I’ll make sure you get home safely.” 

 Fareeha swallows, jaw clenched as her orgasm approaches. “Th-thanks, mother. I need to b-be alone please.” 

 “I understand. And please, see Angela before you go.” 

 “Mm-hm.” It’s a struggle to wait until Ana is out of earshot but Fareeha somehow manages. The moment she is able, she lets herself go, pushing down hard against Angela’s mouth and riding out what is admittedly a glorious orgasm. Angela drinks her in, holding tight and prolonging this last moment for as long as she can. 

When Fareeha finally has no more to give, she rises, bringing Fareeha’s sweats back up as she goes. She makes a show of wiping her mouth and licking her fingers before pulling Fareeha in for another kiss. This time, Fareeha melts against her and holds her close, still shuddering. 

 “I’m coming back,” she says when she pulls away. 

 Angela grins despite the tears in her eyes. “You’d better.”


	61. Fight-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: pharmercy : irritability is high because they haven't slept together in months and have an argument about it

“Fareeha, not tonight. I’m tired,” Angela says, removing the dark hand that is currently sliding up her abdomen. The sigh she receives in response prickles the back of her neck and though she’s not surprised  when  she hears the bed creaking from  her lover rising, it still hurts. “Don’t leave,” she pouts, turning  around. “I still want to be  with you.”

“Apparently not in all the ways,” Fareeha snips. Her tone is not unkind, but Angela can see the hurt in her eyes. With a huff, she pulls  her shirt off and lies back on the bed. 

“Alright, come on then.”

Fareeha looks even sadder, dark eyes meeting her own with a shake of her head. “I don’t want to guilt you into it.”

“You’re not guilting me. I want it.”

“No you don’t!”

It startles them both, the severity in Fareeha’s words. Fareeha gives another shake of her head, brows furrowed. She doesn’t look at Angela as she says, “I’m sorry, just…please don’t lie to me right now.” 

Angela, still topless, slides off the bed and steps near. Fareeha takes one step back and Angela stops. It hurts that Fareeha doesn’t want her close, but she respects it all the same. “I love you,  Fareeha. I’m attracted to you. I _do_ want you. I’ve  just been so busy lately. I’m sorry.” 

“Are you?”

“Of course I am.”

“Because I’ve asked you to take it easy four times in the last two months, and you haven’t. You said you would.” Fareeha’s tone is dismissive, already done with this argument they’ve had over and over again. The same things are said, the same apologies, the same make up sex. And even that is getting stale. “I just…if work is more important than,”  she waves her hand between the two of them, “I’d like to know, so that I can make arrangements.”

Angela’s mouth falls open, and fear seizes her spine. The idea of Fareeha leaving, of being without her, alone. Her heart races, mind grabbing at anything that might make her stay. 

A flicker of light on the bedside table. Fareeha sighs. Angela’s work pager.  

She’s on call. It can’t be ignored. Still, Angela takes a cautious step towards her lover,  then another when no response is made. One more until she can reach out and touch that lovely sharp jaw and pull it until their eyes meet. 

“I _have_ to go in tonight,” she starts, keeping a grip on Fareeha’s chin so she doesn’t turn away. “But while I’m there, I’ll fix my schedule. I’ll call you and we can work on it together. And I won’t request to be on call so much.” Angela’s lip waivers as she can’t help but pull Fareeha into a hug, shoulders  sagging in relief when it’s returned. “I love you so much more than my work. And I’m sorry I let it get like this.”

“That’s what I get for being with a world renowned surgeon,” Fareeha mumbles  against her shoulder. “You think you’re the only one capable of  saving a life.” 

“You’re saying I need to check my ego?”

“You always told me to tell you if you started getting that holier-than-thou doctor mentality.”

Angela pulls away with a tentative smile. “I can always count on you.”

Fareeha returns it and gives Angela another squeeze. “Go to  work. I’ll be  waiting up for you.”


	62. Honeymoon-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: pharmercy being cute and fluffy on their honeymoon <3

Angela doses on Fareeha’s chest, eyelids fluttering as she fights the sleep threatening to overtake her. Fareeha holds her left hand, tracing designs in the palm and occasionally bringing it to her mouth to kiss the ring. Angela hums every time she does it, pink lips pulling into a lazy smile before pressing a kiss against her sternum.

“Mrs. Amari,” Fareeha murmurs in awe. She’s thinking of herself, but Angela speaks all the same, voice muffled by warm, ochre skin.

“That’s me.”

Fareeha chuckles, Angela’s blonde head bouncing slightly at the action. “Angela Annatina Ziegler-Amari. Quite the mouthful.”  
  
Angela groans, still to this day regretting telling Fareeha her middle name, because it never ceases to amuse her. Fareeha chuckles again and Angela rises, sleep fading as she sits atop her wife’s lap and grabs her wrists. She pins them playfully over Fareeha’s head and smiles into warm eyes before leaning down to steal a kiss. “Just Mrs. Amari,” she murmurs when they part, lips still close enough to graze Fareeha’s own. “Or…Dr. Amari, I suppose.”

“You’re world renowned,” Fareeha points out with a raised brow. “You can’t just change your name.”

Angela raises her own, a challenge. “Oh can’t I?”

Fareeha is all smiles. “Nope.”

Angela’s brow furrows into absolutely adorable stubbornness. “Just watch me.”

Fareeha sighs, eyes trailing lower to her nude wife. They’ve hardly seen any sights of their honeymoon destination, content to lie in their hotel room all day. Fareeha thinks it’s her best vacation yet.

“I’d watch you do anything.”

Angela’s lips part into a slow smile as a thumb caresses the pulse of Fareeha’s wrist.

“Oh really?”

“Really…Mrs. Amari.”


	63. Handsy-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: love your pharmercy fics!! how about them getting a little handsy in the middle of a mission? ;)

“Fareeha?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m curious.”

“Yes?”

“Firstly, why are we on the ground? And secondly,” Angela stops and turns, unsurprised as she watches Fareeha’s eyes try to quickly dart up to her face, “why is the medic in front?”

The sun glints off of Fareeha’s impressive raptora suit, making Angela squint as she tries to catch the eyes of her lover beneath the beaked helm. The battle is nearing its end, and comm chatter tells them they’re not immediately needed. Still, turned around and still for some reason leading, Angela begins to walk backwards towards the squad. Fareeha follows as if the playful beam of damage Angela shoots her is a leash.

“Just admiring your assets.”

Angela rolls her eyes. “If I had a nickel for every time I heard that line…”

Fareeha squints in mock anger. “Who is she. Tell me now.” She does a little rocket jump into the air as if to attack and feels even more weightless as she hears Angela’s soft laughter.

“You’re all talk, soldier.” There’s a tone to Angela’s voice that sends a thrill up Fareeha’s spine. Eyes meet to find Angela’s smoldering, arrogant in their challenge. Angela leans her staff against the red dusted wall along Route 66 and crosses her arms.

“Am I?” Fareeha asks, stepping closer.

“Mhmm.” Angela pretends to look at her nails despite being gloved. It’s just plain insulting. Fareeha takes another step forward, so close now that Angela takes a step back, spine meeting the cliff side. Fareeha moves with trained efficiency, palms pressed on the wall on either side of Angela’s head. Angela’s expecting more banter, teasing. And she gasps when a hard metal thigh slides between her legs and lifts her off the ground. A mixed cry of surprise and want fills Fareeha’s ears and she smiles as she traces the curve of Angela’s jaw with a finger.

“Am I all talk now?” Palms delve lower, pressing firm against Angela’s breasts to make sure she feels it through the reinforced fiber of her Valkyrie suit. Angela’s breath catches, hips jolting forward once. There’s a soft click, and Fareeha’s helmet is gone. But Angela doesn’t get a good look as Fareeha dips her head to kiss what part of Angela’s jaw is exposed. Lips run along her neck despite the forbidding material of her suit, and Angela shudders all the same, those lips, that mouth so close and yet not near enough. Fareeha grunts in approval as her hands find Angela’s thighs, gripping tightly as she slides them up and down. She reaches around, briefly, to grab a handful of that which she’d been admiring, and drops Angela back to the ground.

The good doctor is flushed, mouth parted as she catches her breath. Fareeha smiles as she places a single finger under her chin and closes her mouth. She then flicks Angela gently on the nose and steps away to jettison into the air. She knows full well that Angela will follow, and have a few choice words for her when she does.


	64. Drunk-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Prompt where Team Overwatch attend a gala and drunk Angela can't stop fawning over dapper Fareeha wearing suspenders and a bowtie with her suit :3

Angela normally wasn’t such a lightweight. But she’d gotten consumed with work today and had forgotten to eat. Now, two glasses of champagne later, she’s spinning with regret. Her footsteps are heavy, mind light, and all too late she’s thinking about eating, but not sure if her stomach can handle shrimp puffs and caviar. At least her dress is strapless, she muses, giving her some relief from the heat in her cheeks.

Hana catches her eye and winks, more perceptive than she lets most catch on, and Angela blushes deeper and turns. Here she is at a benefit gala and she’s plastered. Well, a little more than tipsy. Either way, highly unprofessional from a supposedly world renowned surgeon. She lifts her head, unused to her hair not being tied up, and runs a hand through it. It’s then that she sees Fareeha. She’s in a crisp, tight suit, thin silk bow tie, hair pulled back in a ponytail save for the beads that line her cheeks. Angela’s already switched to water, and yet the sight makes her head swim. Fareeha catches sight of her, and that warm, familiar smile has her thinking things she most definitely shouldn’t.

Too polite to ignore someone, Angela gives her a pursed lip smile and a nod before heading out into the balcony. It’s relatively empty, the night wind being far too chilly for any extensive views. But Angela welcomes the bite against her bare shoulders and neck. She’s thought about Fareeha more than professionally for awhile now, and seeing her like that…. Angela sighs and grips the side of the balcony, trying to will herself sober. The wind rattles around her ears and makes them sting, but she doesn’t care. Anything but looking into those dark eyes.

“This is not exactly the place where grease is abundant.”

Angela turns, knowing full well the voice and accepting her fate. Fareeha walks towards her, a small plate in one hand and a knowing smile that makes Angela’s cheeks burn. “But I did find some bacon wrapped…something. Took the something out and now we have simple, trustworthy bacon.” Fareeha extends the plate and Angela swallows, eyeing it with confusion until Fareeha shakes it a bit to get her to take it. “Hana told me you may have accidentally gotten yourself drunk,” she adds to ease the doctor’s confusion.

Angela sighs, jaw clenched in embarrassment. “I–it’s so unprofessional. I don’t normally–

“Hey,” Fareeha soothes, stepping closer. “I’m not judging. No one is. I’m here to help.”

Angela blinks down at the small slices of bacon on the plate. Fareeha took the time to collect it for her, and remove whatever it was wrapped around. Her heart flutters for reasons it shouldn’t and she puts a piece into her mouth into distract herself. A hand touches her bare shoulder briefly, and before Angela can react, its jerked away. Blue eyes lift to find Fareeha quickly shirking off her suit jacket.

“You’re colder than that ice sculpture in there.”

Black suspenders trail up her narrow waist and around her shoulders and Angela has to focus on chewing lest she choke. Fareeha takes the plate for a moment to offer the jacket and Angela can’t find it in her to protest. It’s warm and smells clean with a hint of some subtle perfume. A scent she’d have to bury herself in to really enjoy, and the thought of her face pressed against Fareeha’s neck has her spinning away so quickly the bacon is knocked to the floor.

“Oh no!” Angela whines, looking crestfallen down at the meat. “Oh, Fareeha, you went to so much trouble and I’m such a mess.” Tears line her eyes, spurred on by the alcohol, no doubt, and all she can do is look down in shame.

“Hey,” Fareeha soothes again.

Angela opens her mouth to protest but suddenly she’s enveloped in strong, long arms. Oh, how she’s fantasized of this. And it’s wrong. Fareeha is a fellow soldier, a coworker. But she’s too upset, too drunk, too happy to pull away. The white shirt is crisp against her cheek, silk bow tie brushing against her and, despite her best efforts, Angela can’t resist sliding a single finger beneath a suspended and trailing it upward. The back of her knuckle brushes against firm muscle, higher still to rove over a soft breast, and she remembers the smell of that perfume. She tilts her head, nose pressed against a dark neck, and inhales.

“You smell nice,” she says, finger still trailing up and down beneath the suspender. “You feel nice, too.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

If Angela had been sober, she would have easily recognized the strain in Fareeha’s voice, the trembling of her skin every time Angela moved against it, and way she held her ever tighter, keeping her close and protected. As it stands, Angela can only think of Fareeha as composed and confident and beautiful, mercifully tolerating her in this drunken state so as not to avoid embarrassing anyone else.

She can’t bring herself to admit that the water, the time, the cold air, and the food, have rendered her sober for the past ten minutes.


	65. Birth-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Angela goes into labor and Fareeha turns into a big ball of concern

Fareeha has just loaded the overnight bag into the car and turned around for her wife when she hears her calling. She sprints in, eyes widening as she finds Angela on the floor, gripping her stomach and face contorted in pain. Her heart hammers in her chest, any and all training going out the window as she gazes down at her wife and child. Angela breathes deeply, and when she sees Fareeha has returned, speaks as if she’s in a surgical ward rather lying on the floor with wet pants.

“She’s coming now. We can’t wait. Get my pants off.”

Fareeha blinks, frozen in worry. A home birth? What if something goes wrong, what if she messes up, what if–

“Darling,” Angela says, breaking Fareeha from her thoughts. She holds out a hand towards her wife. “I need you.”

That spurs Fareeha into action. She falls to the floor and works to get Angela’s shoes and pants off. Angela continues to groan and hiss at the contractions that went from eight minutes apart to constant but once she feels Fareeha’s hand on her bare knee, she relaxes slightly.

“Do you see anything?”

“Not yet. Remember to breathe.”

Angela nods and takes deep breaths in between cries of pain. She has half a mind to send Fareeha for her doctor’s bag that has a shot of morphine in it, but it wouldn’t be fair. Judging by Fareeha’s pale cheeks, she’d need it more than herself, anyway. Fareeha continues to rub her knees, reminding Angela to breathe and takes breaks as she’s learned from lamaze classes. She leaves Angela for just a moment to return with some towels and something to cut the cord, and when she comes back she can’t help but smile.

“I see the head.”

Angela can’t respond. The pillows Fareeha placed behind her help support her as she sits up and pushes, an overwhelming desire. Fareeha waits, hands gloved and ready, praising and encouraging Angela on autopilot. She can’t stop staring at the head. A crown of thick, black hair like her own, skin a dusky blend of hers and Angela’s beneath the blood. This is it. She’s finally here. Angela cries out again, and the head is in her hands. Fareeha’s mouth falls open as another push sends her entirely into her waiting hands. Angela falls back onto the pillows, panting, and Fareeha watches this small, bloody face crinkle up and let out a wail. It’s a relief to them both and Fareeha is spurred into cleaning her off and placing her in Angela’s arms.

Ever the physician, Angela inspects every inch of their daughter before locking eyes with Fareeha. “She’s perfect.”

Fareeha knows this, knew it before she saw her, but it’s still a relief. When the placenta comes a few minutes later, Angela inspects it for signs of complications or infections, and gives Fareeha the okay to cut the cord.

Now that everything is clean and finished, ambulance called, Fareeha sits next to Angela, kissing her sweaty forehead as one hand gently massages over her uterus. Angela moans a bit at that, knowing that it’s necessary as it is painful, but even the pain is dulled by the little girl in her arms. She’s feeding, eagerly, and when her eyes open for just a moment, they’re blue. Angela tells Fareeha that they may change, but Fareeha hopes it isn’t true. She’d love nothing more than for those beautiful blue eyes of her wife to be carried on into their daughter.

“You did it,” Fareeha breathes into blonde hair, kissing it between words.

“We did it.”

Fareeha scoffs. “I stood there like a statue while you did all the work.”

Angela laughs. “You didn’t pass out. That’s a plus.”

The baby coos around her mother’s breast and they’re both silenced, eyes drawn to the little, little life they helped create.


	66. Confession-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Mercy gets jealous when she finds out someone (your choice) had a crush on Pharah, until Pharah shows/tells her that she has nothing to worry about. Mostly fluff

It’s the third time that Angela has snapped at Lena. Perhaps snapped is the wrong word, given that all Angela does is a cool response and a quick brush-off. It’s not even actually _rude_ but the fact that it’s _Angela_ makes the intent clear. The doctor is renowned for her patience and yet for the Brit she seems to have none. Fareeha sees Lena’s hurt expression as Angela deftly shrugs off a well-meaning palm to the shoulde. Her chest pangs in sympathy as Lena sighs and dips her head before walking away. Ever the hero, justice must be done.

She waits until Angela is alone, finishing charts in the med bay, and steps in, locking the door behind her. Angela lifts her head, eyes tired, and studies the soldier as she walks closer, a steely glint in her eyes. “Alright, Angela, spill it.”

Angela’s brows raise. “Spill what?”

“Why are you treating Lena like a bug beneath your heel?”

Angela’s eyes widen. Had she been that obvious. “I-I…I’m not?”

Fareeha can’t help a small smile. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“That’s not true!”

“She’s hurting.”

That stops Angela’s prideful retort in its tracks. Blue eyes fall shamefully to the chart in her hands where she pretends to read the words. Fareeha can see the muscles of her jaw clenching, something Angela does when holding back, and steps closer. The warm weight of a palm on her shoulder is not brushed away this time, and Angela sighs as Fareeha crouches by her side. Dark eyes wait patiently, thumb stroking a tense shoulder blade.

“You can tell me.”

A thick swallow and Angela sits back in her chair. She pulls her ponytail out, tired of the stress on her scalp, and her eyes roll back as Fareeha’s hand slides up to massage the strands.

“I don’t like the way she looks at you.”

It’s been nearly five minutes they’ve enjoyed this silence, and Fareeha almost doesn’t hear the whispered confession. Fingers pause their ministrations for just a moment before continuing. Angela glances over at her, assured by Fareeha’s gentle smile, and continues.

“I first saw it when you were working out. Squats. Lena just…just leaned against the wall and watched like a wolf eyeing its prey.” She looks down at her hands. “She flirts with you every day.”

The last sentence is more accusing than informative, but Fareeha finds she can’t be mad. Lena does flirt with her every day, stupid jokes and well-meaning intentions. Fareeha assumed it playful, knows it is. But Angela sniffles slightly and she realizes it’s more serious than she thought.

“ _Ya amar_ ,” she coos, standing and pulling Angela with her. Angela’s arms circle her neck tightly, face buried into a broad shoulder as she tries not to cry. Because it’s stupid, really, she knows. But she can’t help the white hot anger that roils in her belly every time she sees it. Lena’s charming smile and Fareeha’s sweet laugh. That time Lena reached up and gripped a lean bicep while whistling low. All of it makes her want to scream and cry like a child. She knows it’s stupid, knows it’s an overreaction. But…

But it’s embarrassing to say. She can’t possibly word that Fareeha saved her. That she thought she’d be lonely forever until that tall, vaguely familiar woman sauntered into Overwatch HQ and fearlessly asked her out. That Fareeha gives her the strength to rise, to fight, to save every single day, filling her with a greater purpose than her work ever did. She can’t say these things, so she just holds tighter to Fareeha’s neck. Fareeha can feel the tension in Angela’s stomach, the staccato breaths, and the slight dampness on her shoulder. She’s still holding back. So Fareeha holds as well. Dipping slightly, she hooks her arms under Angela’s thighs and lifts. Angela gasps but says nothing more as Fareeha carries her to an examination table and sets her down gently. They’re almost at equal height now, Fareeha standing between Angela’s knees and waiting. Angela can’t meet her eyes, worries that thick bottom lip and tries to even her breathing.

Fareeha takes her hands and strokes the knuckles before lifting them to her lips. Angela sighs, a good sign, and Fareeha smiles as she leans down for a kiss. As slow as it is, Fareeha can feel the desperation coming from her lover. The desire to kiss better, to be better. But it’s an impossible task for someone who finds her perfect. Smiling against pale pink lips, Fareeha drops Angela’s hands and brings them around her ass. She pulls, sliding Angela closer to the edge, stopped only by Fareeha’s presence. Angela hums as Fareeha kneads it for a moment before her fingers slide up Angela’s spine.

“Lena has a girlfriend, you know,” Fareeha whispers against a cut jaw. She sucks gently and Angela hisses, gripping Fareeha’s taut biceps.

“I-I know.”

Lips trail downward, over her pulse point, as fingertips soothe the back of her neck. Fareeha hums a familiar tune in Angela’s ear to make her shudder, and grins again when those wonderfully thick thighs lift to wrap around her waist.

“Did you know she has a crush on you, too?” Fareeha doesn’t wait for a response before she nips at Angela’s neck and sucks hard. Angela jerks, a surprised moan escaping as pain and pleasure intertwine on her delicate skin.

“No she,” a pause to gasp, “doesn’t.”

Fareeha snorts and rakes her teeth along the reddening skin, giving another sharp suck before answering. “She does. And every other woman here.”

Angela still isn’t convinced, but she turns her head anyway against the coiled muscle of Fareeha’s neck and bites down. Hard. Fareeha lets out a shuddered gasp, hands instinctively going back to her ass to hold Angela firmly as she continues, lapping at the indents with her tongue. “Hell, she even has a crush on Widowmaker.”

Angela snorts at that, the two of them nipping and sucking and licking and kissing. “I have noticed that.”

“How could you miss it?” Fareeha groans quietly and pulls Angela ever closer. “The point is: Lena is hopelessly and adorably gay. And you have nothing to worry about.”

Pulling back, Fareeha admires her work. The purple love mark blossoming slowly on Angela’s neck. She knows she has one, too, can feel the tender flesh rising, and reaches up to stroke a pale cheek. “But if it bothers you, I will say something next time.”

Enough has already been said. Angela knows they will both wear these marks for days, neither attempting to hide it, and she knows that was Fareeha’s intent. She shakes her head, blonde hair framing her lovely face, and kisses the point of Fareeha’s chin.

“That’s not necessary. I’m sorry I–

"You have nothing to apologize for.”

Angela sighs, tears pressing at her eyes for a different reason, and holds Fareeha close. Fareeha holds her back just as tightly, the two of them there for who knows how long but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is each other.

“I love you,” Angela murmurs into Fareeha’s shoulder, sealing it with a kiss to the dark skin.

Fareeha hums happily and squeezes her just a bit tighter. “I love you, too. And only you.”

“I know.”


	67. Belly Dance-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Fareeha bellydancing for Angela? Love your Pharmercy prompt fills! Thank you for writing them!

“Really?”

“Really!”

Angela’s brow furrows, eyes following the lines of Fareeha’s body as she tries to imagine such a sight. Fareeha pouts playfully.

“What? You don’t think I can?”

“I just…I’m having trouble seeing it.”

“Why?”

Blue eyes take in Fareeha’s tall, strong body. She’s too serious, too self conscious, too…Angela merely shrugs. Fareeha pauses in their stroll, hands fisted into her jacket and eyes shimmering as she gives that slow smile that is quickly worming it’s way into Angela’s heart.

“Maybe I’ll just show you.”

Thus was how Angela arrived. It’s only their third date, and already she’s allowed herself to be brought back to Fareeha’s sparse but clean apartment. To be fair, however, it is for good reason. Belly dancing? She doesn’t know Fareeha all that well yet but it definitely seems out of character. A playful smile crosses her lips as she imagines Fareeha somewhat clumsy and off-beat. It would be so cute, and she’d have an opportunity to leave this couch and get closer. Condensation drips down the drink Fareeha offered and Angela idly draws designs in the glass until she hears the bedroom door open.

For some reason, she expected the works. Jewels, shawls, anklets. But Fareeha steps out in joggers and a sports bra, bare feet padding along the carpet as she makes her way to her music. Angela quickly takes a sip of her drink, eyes wide as she studies the curves of muscle around her spine, the dimples of her back. Fareeha’s skin is a warm russet that Angela knows will take the chill out of her fingers. She bites her lip instead and waits.

“Ready to eat your words?” Fareeha teases over her shoulder as she finds a song. Angela can only hum, fearful of what she might say should she allow herself to speak.

The music starts and Fareeha turns. She walks over the couch and, with a single foot, slides the coffee table off to the side. Angela’s mouth falls open at the sight of her abs. Defined and engaged, melding into sex lines that dip below the waist band of her pants. Angela feels hot and Fareeha hasn’t started yet. Etiquette brings Angela’s eyes back to her date’s face.

Fareeha can’t help but smile. Everything about Angela is soft. Her hair, skin, voice, demeanor, all of it fills Fareeha with a desire to protect, to spoil, to love. Lovely pink lips part to allow a tongue to snake out and Fareeha sees her gripping the edge of the couch. She can’t hide what the sight of Fareeha like this is doing to her, and Fareeha can’t wait to see how it progresses when she starts to move.

It starts slowly, gentle undulations and the swiveling of hips that could be found in any nightclub. Angela even recognizes a few of her own moves. But on Fareeha they’re so much better. Light catches each swell of muscle, each pulse of her body, and it’s very clear very quickly that Fareeha has rhythm. The song picks up pace, and so does Fareeha, hips and belly moving in a way Angela has never seen before. Her mouth falls open, dry and wanting Fareeha turns while rolling her belly in and out like a wave. It’s all so fluid, like a wave on the ocean, and Angela can’t believe muscle so hard can be made to bend in such a way.

Fareeha wears a victorious smile, hands sliding up her sides and over her cheeks before running through her hair. She thinks maybe she hears a slight moan, but can’t be sure over the music. Angela is enraptured, cheeks flushed and eyes unblinking as she takes in the sight. Fareeha belly dances because she likes to dance, because she likes to be fit and active. But now, with someone else’s eyes on her, she feels so, so sexy. And indeed she is, as far as Angela is concerned anyway.

Angela has never seen someone so mesmerizing. She reaches her hand out, losing herself for a moment before she snaps it back into her lap. It’s a belly dance, not a lap dance, and she shakes her head in shame. Fareeha’s chuckle causes her eyes to lift, and when they do, Fareeha is right in front of her.

“You can touch,” she says, not losing any of the beat as she continues to dance.

Angela holds her gaze for a long moment, then reaches out again. Fingertips brush her abs and Angela realizes now they’ve been oiled to catch the light. Slick and hot in her touch, Angela shifts a bit as she feels Fareeha’s stomach flex and fold beneath her. Fareeha, too, lives for this touch. Simple, but electric, scorching her nerves and sending her mind aflame with thoughts she probably shouldn’t be having so early on in their relationship. But one glance at Angela tells her she’s thinking the same. Especially as her hand moves to brush the waistband of her joggers before gripping a hip. The music slows, but Fareeha doesn’t. She’s intent on keeping Angela enraptured, keeping her close and keeping that touch upon her. Angela doesn’t have to be told twice as she stands and brings both hands up to slide them along Fareeha’s belly.

“Like what you see?” Fareeha teases with that damn adorable, crooked smile.

Angela returns it and exhales as she skims a nail across a sex line and hears Fareeha’s breath catch.

“I’ve never been happier to be wrong.”


	68. Flu-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: angela is a little shit when she's ill with the flu..

The problem with doctors is that they think they’re impervious to illness. They look you right in your pink eye without fear and carry on about their duties. The bigger problem is, they’re not impervious. Which makes a worse problem when said doctor actually does get sick because…well…she just flat out doesn’t believe it. 

Thus is Fareeha’s predicament as she follows a sickened Angela around the apartment. Angela’s sniffling and coughing and wheezing, pausing to lean against the counter when her head starts to spin. “Angela,” Fareeha tries for the hundredth time. “Come back to bad.”

“Why?” Angela’s tone is garbled, fuzzy from congestion and it would be adorable if Fareeha wasn’t genuinely concerned. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. Come on.” 

Angela sneezes, tissue just barely making it to her nose. She pulls away with a grimace and tosses the tissue into the trash before walking to the sink to wash her hands. She sniffles again, eyes half lidded as she forces her lips to part to breathe through her mouth. A cough comes. A bone rattling, wheezing kind that comes from her core and Fareeha can’t take it anymore. She scoops Angela up around the waist and proceeds to carry her to the bedroom. That is, until Angela’s foot wedges against the door and pushes against her.

“Fareeha, stop it. I have work to do.”

“Not like this.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

Angela opens her mouth to retort but another cough comes instead. Fareeha holds her close, rubbing her heaving back as she walks into the bedroom without resistance and lays her lover on the bed. She grabs a tissue and offers it to Angela, eyes pleading. Angela huffs, red faced and puffy from her illness, nose a cute cherry color. 

“I’m not staying in bed.”

Fareeha tilts her head to the side. “Don’t make me fight you. I wouldn’t do this if you didn’t need it.”

“Fareeha, I–

“Please.”

It’s a tone Fareeha rarely uses. Because it puts her weakness on display. Her fears and concerns and limitations. Angela’s only heard it a few times, but it works. She sighs and shakes her head, relaxing back onto the bed. Fareeha smiles and dips down to kiss a heated forehead. 

“Even doctors need taking care of.”


	69. Happy Birthday-M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eheheheh 69 would be this. Prompt: It's Pharah's bday and Mercy's gift to her is a striptease/lap dance combo :^)

It’s been a lovely, calm day, just as Fareeha wanted. She sat on the couch, book in hand, and tried to figure out who the murderer was, oblivious to the woman who sauntered in the room. In fact, it wasn’t until music started that Fareeha lifted her head to investigate.

  
That’s when her jaw dropped.

  
Paying her no mind, Angela was in the process of pulling a high backed dining room chair over. For seemingly no reason what so ever, she wore a glittering, short as sin cocktail dress, ass accentuated by her high stilettos. Satisfied with the position of the chair, Angela finally turned her smoldering blue eyes on her girlfriend.

  
“Happy birthday, _Liebling_."

  
Fuck.

  
Fareeha’s eyes went wide, the book falling to the couch cushions as she tried to figure out what was happening. It was obvious enough, but hard to believe. Angela was beautiful, knew she was beautiful, but still harbored a few self conscious thoughts about her body. Thoughts everyone had, but Fareeha never would have expected this. She obeyed the pale, crooked finger and rose without thought, circling the chair before sitting down. Angela smiled, pleased, and stroked some wayward, dark hair.

  
“How did you know?” Fareeha hated gifts, hated being doted on or having money spent on her. Angela had been prying for the entire time they’ve been together to figure out her birthday. It was only inevitable.

  
Angela smiled and leaned down for a soft kiss, lips shimmering and sweet from gloss. “I have my ways. Now, sit back.”

  
Fareeha swallowed and nodded, pressing her straight spine to the chair as Angela turned once more to find the right song. As soon as it started, her hips began to move. Slowly at first, to the beat of the song, as she warmed herself up. Already Fareeha felt overwhelmed. Angela’s ass was just a foot away, swaying and dipping, and she knew from experience just how luscious it was. She wanted it. Instead, she kept her hands fisted in her lap. Long pale legs turned and sauntered over as if on a runway, the hells clicking with authority. Angela’s smile was all sex as she ran her hands up her sides, over her breasts, and up into her hair. The ponytail fell free, and Fareeha couldn’t help but groan as lovely blonde, locks fell about Angela’s shoulders.

  
From her dancing, the straps of her dress had fallen off her shoulders. Black lace peeked out underneath, a style Fareeha didn’t recognize, and she felt her heart racing. Angela stepped closer, legs on either side of the chair, and bent her knees to bring her chest along Fareeha’s face. She straightened quickly, just a tease, but Fareeha’s labored breath told her it was working. Angela gripped the back of the chair, using it for leverage as she rocked her body a mere centimeters from Fareeha’s own. She still hadn’t touched her, and it was clear the desire was getting to Fareeha. Dark cheeks flushed, pupils blown, knuckles near white from resisting the urge to grab. And she hadn’t even gotten started.

  
Straightening, Angela turned with a graceful sort of spin and ground her ass once against Fareeha’s lap. She felt her lover’s hips bounce excitedly before she pulled away, and heard Fareeha’s desperate whimper that followed. She smiled, unseen with her back turned, and slid her arms from the straps of her dress. Fareeha watched as the back of a thin, lacy bra appeared. Down further where it teased at matching underwear before stopping. Angela let the dress catch naturally on her wide hips and turned. The bra was expensive, and worth every penny as Fareeha’s eyes widened even further, mouth falling open at the sight. How could something so skimpy offer so much support? Angela’s large breasts were up so high they threatened to spill out the top, pink nipples teased through the thin fabric.

  
Though she’d never done this before, Angela couldn’t help but be fascinated by Fareeha’s reactions. She’d never seen her lover so on the brink, so consumed by lust. Then again, never had Angela denied her like this. Perhaps it’s something they would try more often. Angela continued to sway to the music, hands reaching up to grab her breasts and squeeze. When she pulled away, her nipples poked harshly against the fabric and Fareeha bit down on her lip. The crooked smirk Angela wore would have been insulting if it wasn’t so sexy. And Fareeha couldn’t dwell on it for long because those thick hips were in her lap.   
Angela straddled Fareeha’s lap and began a slow, heavy grind, arms lifting above her head to accentuate her breasts further. She could feel Fareeha’s hot breath on her skin, desperate and labored. Her hips rose up and into Angela, grinding with her, and Angela let her have that small concession. Hands touched her thighs, but no sooner had Angela opened her eyes they disappeared. Fareeha looked as if she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar and Angela couldn’t help but smile, even as she gave a warning shake of her head. Fareeha nodded eagerly, so desperate to please, and Angela felt herself growing hotter. To help herself, Angela rose again and left Fareeha’s lap, circling behind her. Fareeha kept her eyes forward, tensing in surprise when Angela touched her shoulder. She soon relaxed when those pale palms slid down her front, over her breasts and along her abs. Angela’s breath was hot in her ear, sending electric pulses down her spine and goose bumps along her skin. Fingers reached the hem of Fareeha’s shirt and pulled, leaving her in her simple sports bra. Angela gave a soft whimper into Fareeha’s ear and nipped it gently before rounding her again. The music carried over into the next song, just as lively, and Angela shimmied the dress past her hips. It pooled at her feet, and she took one foot out, using the other fling the garment at Fareeha.

  
It hit her square in the chest. Fareeha didn’t notice. Because not only was Angela wearing a near see through thong, but garters.

  
“ _Fuck_.”

  
Angela grinned at the high praise before she got down on her knees. Fareeha’s eyes were close to bugging out of her head, but it didn’t matter because Angela was on her knees and crawling towards her. Her breasts ballooned out of the bra at this angle, ass in the air and swerving with each planned move. Fareeha’s knees parted on instinct, and Angela gave an all too sweet hum for her position as she kissed the top of her thigh. Then she turned, back to Fareeha, and slid up against Fareeha’s front. Fingers twined themselves in Fareeha’s hair, and pulled her lips onto her shoulder. She bit down on the coiled muscle as she felt Angela writhe in her lap. Hands laced over top of Fareeha’s own and dragged them down her body, pausing at her breasts to let Fareeha feel just how firm her nipples were.

  
It turned out to be a mistake as Fareeha groaned and pulled too hard, the fabric tearing and falling down Angela’s shoulders. Angela, however, only laughed, letting her breath catch as Fareeha pinched and kneaded at her breasts. When her hands delved lower, however, Angela stepped away. Fareeha’s whimper was music to her ears, and she smiled softly as she backed her way into the bedroom, beckoning the birthday girl with a crooked finger.

  
“If you want it, come and get it.”

  
Fareeha didn’t need to be told twice.


	70. Distraction-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: pharmercy - pharah is stuck in the med bay with an injury and mercy tries to distract her from any discomfort...

It most definitely _didn’t_ hurt. The shrapnel had just _grazed_ her ribs. Surgery had been a _precaution_ and nothing more. Fareeha repeated this mantra in her head as she ground her teeth and tried to will the pain away. It would help if she had something to occupy her mind but the white walls of Overwatch’s med bay recovery room offered little in terms of distraction. Sweat peppered her dark brow and nausea toyed with her stomach. Still, she was a soldier. And this behavior was…weak. Long fingers gripped the sheets as she took slow, even breaths, too distracted by pain that definitely wasn’t there to notice the med bay door opening.

Heels caught her attention, and eyes lifted to the addition of color in the room. Angela looked as she always did when working: lab coat over a sweater, black skirt that stopped at her knees, hair perpetually pulled back into a ponytail, and an utterly charming smile. Still, the blue of her eyes and yellow of her hair gave Fareeha’s eyes something to focus on as the doctor neared. Her smile wavered as she touched Fareeha’s sweat-soaked brow and she clicked her tongue disapprovingly. Fareeha couldn’t help but smile at that.

 _“Liebling_ , please let me give you something for the pain.”

Fareeha shook her head, wincing as Angela gently pulled up her hospital gown to check her dressings. Angela’s deep blue eyes stormed with concern, pink lips pulled into a tight line. It was so like Angela. Years of experience and lives saved and lost and brought back from death, and she still can’t stand the sight of someone in pain.

“This is hurting you more than me, isn’t it?” Fareeha teased.

Angela worked both her jaw and the medical tape. “Just a little something?”

“I’m fine.”

Angela huffed, concern turning into frustration as she finally worked the bandage free. She crouched down and examined the stitches, touching as lightly as she could around the area. Still, Fareeha hissed, body tending as burning, sensitive pain shot through her side. Angela lifted her hand, satisfied, and began to redress the wound. “On a scale of one to ten?”

“Zero.”

Adorably, the doctor stomped her heel on the tile in frustration. Fareeha couldn’t help but smile, but it only added to Angela’s mood.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“What do you want me to say, Angela? If it hurts or if it doesn’t, I’m not taking pain relievers.”

“But why?”

Fareeha paused, dark eyes meeting blue, and reached her hand up to drag her knuckle down Angela’s porcelain cheek. The good doctor sighed at the contact even as she shook her head.

“You are so beautiful,” Fareeha whispered, cupping her cheek to stroke the tired rings around her eyes with her thumb. “This helps,” she added with a hopeful smile.

Angela wasn’t a soldier like most of them. She could defend herself, yes, but her priority was field medic. She would likely never understand this drive within Fareeha to feel no pain. And how could Fareeha explain that pain was weakness? That if she allowed herself to feel it, it might never go away. That it might start to ache to put on her Raptora suit or take the necessary shot. Pain was not an option.

When Angela didn’t respond, Fareeha dared her hand lower, fingertips grazing a long neck and making the doctor shudder. She always knew just how to touch Angela, a point of pride for her, and she smiled as pink lips parted in a sigh. “You will be the death of me.” Spoken fondly, accent heavier than normal to imply distraction.

“Come here.”

Fareeha had hoped that Angela would join her in the small bed. But sweet touching or no, Angela was a physician first and foremost. And she wouldn’t risk hurting her blockheaded lover. Still, she circled the bed and sat on the side opposite her injury. Fareeha didn’t dare ask for more. She grabbed Angela’s fingers and placed each one to her lips, kissing each fingertip and knuckle. Angela’s hands were always slightly rough, a consequence of her necessary sterility, but Fareeha loved them all the same. And it had the desired effect. Before Fareeha could mourn the loss of the fingers as they pulled away, they were replaced with lips. Slow, fragile movements as if Fareeha were made of glass. But the emotion that surged between them more than made up for it.

Fareeha could feel the desperation in her lover’s touch. The desire to help, to heal, to take the pain away. The concern and love. And flooded back to her Angela could feel Fareeha’s strength, confidence, an assuredness that never left her. Always eager to lighten the mood when Angela worried, Fareeha slid her hand beneath the hem of Angela’s sweater and grazed the soft plains of muscle.

Angela startled, slightly tickled by the action, and pulled away with a scoff. She shook her head at Fareeha but did not stop her as the hand roamed higher, until it cupped her breast.

“Really?” Angela chided playfully, looking down at the hand that kneaded her breast beneath the sweater.

“Hey, this is for me, not you,” Fareeha answered with a wink as she moved to the other breast. “Have I ever told you how perfect your breasts are?”

“Maybe once or twice.”

The concern would never leave Angela’s eyes. Not so long as her lover donned a suit of armor and delved into the fray. But she had calmed significantly, and Fareeha wasn’t lying about feeling better. Angela provided her with excellent distraction from the pain. When Fareeha praised her chest yet again, Angela rewarded her by lifting her sweater to give her a small glimpse.

“Oh look. I’m healed.”

Angela laughed and dropped her sweater with a shake of her head. “Perhaps I’ll use that on all my patients.”

“How dare you,” Fareeha mock-gasped. “Those are mine.”

“I was under the impression that they were mine.”

“But… _ya amar_ …” Fareeha didn’t whine often. Because she knew it’s effectiveness. Angela’s teasing expression melted into one of love and she was greeted with another kiss.

“You’re too cute for your own good,” Angela mumbled against her lips as she pulled away.

“Gotta have something to keep you coming back.” Fareeha reached out and took hold of those pale fingers again. The heat was gone as she lifted them and placed them to her heart. “Will you stay?”

“Always.”


	71. Subtle-Strong T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: pharmercy where angela is trying to be sexy and seduce at various moments but they completely fly over fareeha's head (angela looks at the camera like in the office)

“Fareeha? Could you help me with my zipper, please?”

Angela hears the sound of footsteps drawing nearer, and the sound of feet moving from hardwood to carpet that indicates Fareeha entrance. She turns her head coyly to the side, long blonde locks falling down the pale plane of her back. Fareeha smiles at her, eyes drifting to her exposed back as she steps near.

“Special occasion?” she asks.

Angela feels her breath warm on her shoulder and gives a playful shrug. “Just wanted to look good tonight.”

“You always do.”

Angela waits, prepared for the turn, the searing kiss. But all she gets is the sound of her zipper rising and a single kiss to her shoulder before Fareeha turns and makes her way out of the room. Undeterred, Angela chuckles to herself as she finishes getting dressed. Fareeha, always of militant mind, sometimes misses what’s right in front of her. A trait the good doctor has learned to deal with as well as work around. Besides, a little playfulness never hurt any relationship.

Stepping out into the living room, she finds Fareeha curled up on the couch with a book. She walks over, pretending to put on her earrings, and mumbling out a soft, “Oops,” when they spill to the floor.

Fareeha’s eyes lift just in time to watch Angela fall on her knees, the low cut dress enhancing already wonderful cleavage as she bends over and begins her search. Angela can feel Fareeha’s eyes on her, and when she dares to lift them, Fareeha, being only human, stares directly at her breasts.

“Care to help me, darling?” Angela coos, arms pushing against the sides of her breasts to push them out even further.

Fareeha blinks, then points. Angela follows her finger and finds her earring. “Thank you,” she laughs as she scoops it up and stands.

Fareeha nods with her gentle smile and goes back to reading. Time to bring out the big guns.

Without much grace, Angela plops herself into Fareeha’s lap. Fareeha lets out a grunt at the sudden weight but her arms quickly come around her lover, who clearly has something to say.

“Is there anything I can do to repay you for the rescue efforts of my earring?” Angela asks, putting extra effort into pouting out her thick bottom lip.

Fareeha traces her side lovingly, eyes lifted as she ponders. “Well, you did say you’d do the dishes yesterday, and they’re still in the sink.”

Angela can’t take it anymore. She laughs. Loud and long, clutching onto Fareeha’s shoulder for support. Fareeha laughs with her, because Angela’s laugh is contagious, but she has not a clue what’s so funny. When she finally catches her breath, Angela steals a quick kiss before continuing.

“Oh, Fareeha. It would just be easier if I asked you to fuck me, wouldn’t it?”

Fareeha’s eyes widen in confusion, and then further in surprise. Suddenly the dress, the crawling, the lap, all makes a glaring amount of sense. Angela giggles again as Fareeha’s cheeks fume and she buries her head in a pale shoulder.

“That’s what you wanted.”

“Yes, that’s what I wanted.”

“Can I make it up to you?”

Angela sighs, ever endeared. “Please.”


	72. Release Day-K

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Can you do Angela and fareeha being really cuddly and fluffy in bed 

“It’s time to get up,” Fareeha murmurs into Angela’s cheek. She’s pressed against Angela’s back, arms slotted around her lover and holding her close. It’s a morning where she woke up at the perfect temperature, perfect position, and well rested. And when she opened her eyes, Angela had been waiting. Blue eyes crinkled as she smiled wide at Fareeha’s rising, and Fareeha knew she’d never get used to it.

She isn’t sure how much time has passed, only that it’s not near enough. Angela’s thick hair is still slightly damp from her shower last night, and Fareeha noses her way through blonde, citrus smelling waves to press a kiss to the back of her neck. Angela hums, hips pushing back against Fareeha’s waist. Fareeha gets the hint and holds her tighter, smiling as she kisses that pale cheek once again. “Did you hear me?”

“Mhmm.”

“But you’re ignoring me?”

“Mhmm.”

Angela bounces slightly as Fareeha’s laugh rumbles against her and buries her face in her pillow to hide her own smile. The hand wrapped over her waist shifts, palm pressing against her abdomen and toying with the elastic of her sleep shorts. From there it slides over her hip to rub circles on her thigh. All the while Fareeha presses kisses to the side of her neck, nosing stray hair aside.

“I could stay like this forever,” Angela sighs, rolling into her back so that she can see Fareeha’s lovely face. Fareeha smiles down at her, and follows Angela’s beckoning for a kiss.

“I wish we could,” Fareeha says when they part.

“Why can’t we?”

Fareeha lifts a brow, thumb jerking towards the bedroom door. “Release day. Did you forget?”

Angela’s groan is answer enough and as she pulls her pillow over her face, Fareeha straddles her waist and presses her forehead to her chest. She rests there, chuckling quietly at Angela’s grousing while dark hands roam pale sides.

“Are you ready?” She asks when Angela finally quiets. She gets a muffled mumble in return, and lifts the pillow from Angela’s face in amusement. “Are you?”

“Yes,” Angela huffs.

“Okay. Here we go.”

“Yep.”

“Right now.”

“Any moment.”

“This is us going.”

Angela’s pout cracks and she rolls her eyes as she bursts into a smile. Fareeha joins her and falls forward, embracing Angela in a heap of girlish giggles.

“You’d better not be having sex!”

Hana’s voice, always expected, rings through the door along with a series of knocks. “There’s no time for your six hour sexcapades it’s release day!”

Bested by their love for Hana, Fareeha and Angela share one last smile before Fareeha climbs off and offers Angela a hand. Six more knocks and Hana enters, peeking through her fingers before dropping her hands at finding them clothed.

“Release day!” She repeats in her lowest, slowest voice, bouncing in excitement. “Lets go.”

“We just have to drive, right?” Angela asks as she pulls her hair up into a ponytail.

“Yeah, yeah, no bras or nothing let’s just go.”

Without waiting for a response, Hana turns and heads for the car. Angela opens her mouth to call out a protest before she feels Fareeha’s arms around her. They hold her close for a moment, swaying the both of them side to side, before gliding up to grip her breasts gently.

“No bras, huh? That could make the wait in the car very interesting.”

Angela scoffs out a laugh and steps out of Fareeha’s arms, catching her by the fingers and leading her out to the car. “Come along, the sooner we leave, the sooner we can come back.”

“Have plans, do you?”

Angela looks back to catch Fareeha’s wink and gives a little sway of her hips as she walks. “I do. And it involves staying in bed all day while Hana is distracted by her new game.”

“Sounds perfect.”


	73. Toe-K

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: angela is playful and sweet in the morning...fareeha is not

It’s nearing noon when Angela finally hears a rustling from the bedroom. She turns in her chair to watch Fareeha stumble blindly into the kitchen, face set in a glower that will remain until her second cup of coffee. Still, Angela smiles at her and gives a wiggle of her fingers. Fareeha nods once and heads to the coffee pot, groaning when she finds it near empty. 

“That’s what you get for sleeping until noon.” 

Another grunt. Tilting her head back, Fareeha closes her weary eyes and reaches up for the cabinet handle. She misses by a foot and Angela’s tinkling chuckle is more grating than pleasing. 

“Here, _Liebling_ , go sit,” Angela says, somehow next to her though Fareeha never heard her move. Fareeha grunts and when she turns, feels a slap on her ass.

“Dondoah…”

“She speaks. Or tries to.”

Fareeha turns her head to stick  her tongue out and catches her toe on the leg of the chair. Letting out a litany of swears, her eyes finally open as she bounces on one foot and tries to examine her throbbing toe. It doesn’t help that Angela’s doubled over by the counter, face red and laughing so hard that her mouth is open soundlessly, eyes clenched and crinkled in the corners. 

When her eyes finally open, it’s to Fareeha’s glare. She stands one one foot, the other sticking straight out in front of her, arms crossed and waiting for an examination. Angela licks her lips to stifle another bout of laughter and steps over, grabbing the foot and gently looking at each toe. 

“I think you’re going to be fine.”

“I could have died, Angela.”

“Are you awake now?”

Fareeha works her brow into several series of glower before huffing and dropping her arms. “I guess so.”

Angela pouts playfully, stepping nearer to wrap her arms around her shoulders. “Aw, is that so bad, _Liebling_?”

“…My toe still hurts.”

This time when Angela laughs, it’s contagious.


	74. Paparazzi-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Can you write a prompt where Angela and fareeha are on a date or taking a stroll and they're hounded by the paparazzi?

It was a lovely dinner, topped off by a lovely stroll in the park. Angela sighed happily as she rested her head against the broad shoulder of her date. Fareeha glanced down at her with a smile, the arm looped through Angela’s pulled away to instead wrap around her waist.

“How’s that pasta treating you?”

Angela, who hadn’t even saved enough for leftovers, groaned. Her stomach was still tight from all of the–delicious–food, but the walk was helping. Fareeha laughed, lips pressed against her blonde hair as she cooed in her native language. Angela wasn’t yet fluent, but she could tell it was soothing, well-wishing, and she pressed herself tighter against Fareeha.

Then they heard the shutter of the camera. Angela felt Fareeha stiffen against her, the both of them moving closer for support. “Lets just head to the car,” Fareeha muttered.

Angela could already hear footsteps closing in behind them, but she nodded anyway. They’d no sooner turned a corner when the first question came.

“Pharah! Pharah! Is it true you have a temper?”

Angela snorted at that. Fareeha was the calmest person she’d ever met. Fareeha didn’t signify the question with a response and instead quickened pace. A litany of questions followed, and Fareeha ignored them all with practiced grace. Unfulfilled, they turned their attention of the supposed weaker of the two.

“Mercy! Where’s your wings?”

Angela ducked her head into Fareeha’s chest, relying on her to guide them down the path to the car. She never was good with attention, positive, negative, or cumbersome. Fareeha felt the back of her neck prickle in protectiveness and held Angela tightly as they kept coming.

“Is it true that Talon is your fault?”

“What about the rumors of your sex tape last month?”

“Do you have a comment on your failed mission last week?”

All of them sent Angela further into Fareeha’s side. Fareeha’s lip curled. Their car was at the end of the block. Just a little further and she could get Angela safely away.

That is, until one paparazzi got frustrated and reached out. He’d only grazed Angela’s shoulder when Fareeha responded. A single hit across the jaw that sent him reeling. They weren’t allowed to touch. He’d crossed a line. Still, cameras rattled and flashes blinded ass Fareeha stood over the dazed man, fist unclenching.

“Don’t ever touch my wife,” she said when she knew he’d hear.

Angela lifted her head. “Wife?”

As if she hadn’t just punched out a man, Fareeha dipped her head shyly and reached into the pocket of her jacket. “I, uh…was gonna ask. Before it was…ruined.” She dipped her head, eyes cloudy. “Before I ruined it.”

Angela stared at the small box in Fareeha’s hand. The paparazzi screamed, the cameras blinding and deafening around them, but Angela was numb to it all. There was only Fareeha as she slipped the ring on her finger, and only Fareeha as she lifted that strong jaw to meet her eyes.

“You didn’t ruin anything. And…yes.”

Fareeha’s eyes went wide. “Yes?”

“Yes!”

The picture on the papers the next morning was Angela leaping into a laughing Fareeha’s arms.


	75. Sweat-E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: can you please write something based on this 2dshepard(.)tumblr(.)com/post/151207207207/i-mean-itmore-click-for-bigger .. im a sinner

Although Angela has been around the world multiple times, her body has never quite adjusted to certain things.  She cannot handle Thai curry spice to save her life, she will never master the dialect of Afrikaans and will suffer embarrassment for forever, and,  she cannot and will not ever be able to tolerate the Egyptian  summer heat. It’s a simple fact of life that she has come to terms with. But still, it’s hard. As she wakes one morning in August, it’s already piping hot in her room. Sheets long since discarded into a pile on the floor, she rises with a groan as she becomes aware of the sticky sweat already clinging to her body. Egypt is a dry heat, but her Swiss body must not have gotten the memo. The somewhat skimpy clothes she fell asleep in  lay discarded on the floor, her subconscious self having removed them in the night, and she lays naked on somewhat damp sheets, ineffectively fanning herself as she tries to will herself up. 

Heat makes her lazy. She does not like to be lazy. Still, she continues to lay in the uncomfortable bed in the uncomfortable heat, drawing designs in the droplets collecting on her stomach. Until she hears a chuckle from the doorway. Fareeha leans against the wall, towel hanging over her shoulders and crooked smile on her face. 

“This is certainly a lovely sight to come in to.”

Angela rolls onto her side, wide hip jutting out into the air before rounding down into a thick, muscled thigh. She takes her time eyeing Fareeha’s slim, taut abdomen and the tight shorts she’s in,  but takes a particular interest in her partner’s equally sweaty state. She perks up a bit, blue eyes shining.

“Are you hot, too, Fareeha?”

Fareeha chuckles, golden cybernetic hand running seamlessly through her hair. “Aren’t I always? No, but,” she says after earning an eye roll from Angela, “I’ve just finished my workout.”

“Working out in this heat?” Angela whines, the idea nauseating. 

Fareeha bites her bottom lip almost shyly as she saunters closer to the bed. “Come on,  it could fun.”

Angela shakes her head, oblivious as her lover sheds her sports bra and and shorts. “No. I can barely move as it is.”

“You won’t have to,” purrs against a pale ear and Angela gasps as she finally opens her eyes. Fareeha, naked and glorious, body shimmering in the light seeping in through the windows, stalks slowly towards her on the bed. Angela can’t help but get excited at the sight alone. Fareeha has always been utterly exquisite, and no amount of heat can make Angela push her away. 

Her cybernetics always have a touch of warmth to them thanks to the complicated machinery beneath. Smooth and metallic as they trail up the heat on her thighs, parting them so Fareeha can slide between. And indeed she does. The heat is stifling, but Angela doesn’t mind near as much when it’s Fareeha with that ever confident smile. She traces her thumb over the udjat under her lover’s eye and pulls her down for a kiss. Slightly salty, and Angela might have morning breath, but little things such as this don’t matter when they’re together. When Fareeha grips her arms and pins them behind her back. Angela lifts a leg to wrap it around Fareeha’s hip just as Fareeha thrusts forward, dragging herself against Angela’s sex. Angela’s mind swims from heat and sex and all  she knows is to respond to that gentle pressure between her legs, grinding back. It’s mild, but it’s all she can do, and Fareeha is persistent. 

She also knows that Angela doesn’t need much. Sometimes she likes it. Likes long and languid foreplay and denial before orgasm after orgasm well into the night. But other times, like this, she gets off on the intimacy. On their sweat mingling, hot bodies sliding together and hotter breaths and wetter lips. Fareeha’s quiet praises and Angela’s soft gasps and moans. Fareeha sucks on Angela’s neck, bites her shoulder, entertains every expanse of skin she can manage before Angela finally tenses, the arms around  her back pulling just slightly in their grasp before she lets out a willowy gasp. Fareeha smiles against her chin, continuing her grind until Angela’s body bows and melts back into the bed and her arms. Her heart races against Fareeha’s own, lips parted to gasp, and Fareeha wants her all over again. But the flush to Angela’s cheeks is telling, and she kisses each one  before helping her darling off the bed. 

“Time for a cold shower, _ya amar.”_

Angela laughs again. “Aren’t we a little late for that?”

Fareeha pulls Angela in close, dancing her slowly to the bathroom as their noses brush. “A little cold never stopped me.”

“Or heat, for that matter.”


	76. Nightmare-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: pharmercy prompt - fareeha has been distant lately and its been a while since they've been intimate, angela confronts her about it one day

“Fareeha.”

“Hmm.”

“Look at me.”

She does, turning her head from the paper to meet Angela’s steel blue eyes. Angela is not pleased. But, more so than anger, there’s a sadness. Fareeha flips the paper onto the counter and turns in her chair to face her lover. 

“Angela? Are you okay?”

“I’m really not sure.” 

Fareeha swallows at that and Angela continues. “You barely look at me these days, ‘fall asleep,’” she holds up air quotes, “on the couch or in the study to keep from coming to bed. You haven’t touched me in–

She stops as tears line her eyes. Angela shakes her head, trying to will them away before looking to Fareeha for an answer. Fareeha isn’t sure she has one. Angela has told no lies, but it’s still hard to hear, harder still to confront…this which has come between them. But it’s been hard to think lately, harder still when Angela looks terribly hurt and it’s all her fault. Angela, however, has had enough of Fareeha’s silence for the past few months. She waves her hands in the air, and Fareeha’s heart clenches, knowing what’s coming. 

“Fine. Fine, if I’m the only one in this, Fareeha,” their eyes meet, two storms waging with silence in between, “then I’ll take my leave.”

Angela wants Fareeha to fight, to reach for her and argue. Like she used to. But this isn’t the Fareeha she knows anymore. That Fareeha doesn’t appear until Angela turns and is nearly out of sight. If she hadn’t been so desperately waiting for it, she wouldn’t have heard it. 

“I haven’t been sleeping.”

Angela stops in the doorway, but can’t yet make herself turn around. Still, she waits, because it’s something. And talking to Angela’s back is far easier than talking to her front right now, so Fareeha continues. 

“Nightmares. Bad ones. Sometimes I wake up  kicking  and punching and…it’s why I haven’t been coming to bed. Maybe not nightmares. Memories really. Like, like I’m right back there. The same smells, sounds…fears.” Fareeha swallows again, fist clenching and unclenching as she tries not to get swept up in those memories that carry her away sometimes. “So it’s…that’s why I…I have no excuse.”

She hangs her head and Angela lets the tears fall from her eyes.  _“Ach du meine güte,”_ Angela mutters, fingers gripping painfully at the wall before she turns. “Fareeha.”

Their eyes meet, and Angela gives a sad smile as she turns and comes nearer. “I’ve been so stupid. I should have seen the signs.”

Fareeha shakes her head, bottom lip trapped between her teeth. “I didn’t wanna worry you.”

“Darling.”  Angela pulls Fareeha’s head to her chest and holds her close, comforting her as best as she can. Subtle sobs stain her shirt but Angela only holds her closer. “I’m so sorry, _Liebling_. I’m so, so sorry. We will get you help. I promise.”  

Fareeha sniffles against Angela’s chest and plays with the soft hairs at the nape of her neck. “Good, because I’ve missed you.”

“God, I’ve missed you, too.”

*ach du meine güte–Oh my goodness


	77. Commander-K

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Been thinking of a potential prompt with a newly appointed overwatch strike commander Fareeha Amari (bc she definitely has the skills to lead) and Angela wanting to get all up in that bc she's a hopeless gay. Perhaps you could somehow do this justice?

She stood tall, spine straight and shoulders back as if she’s known this posture all her life. And perhaps she had. Ochre skin and darker eyes that see much more than they imply. It’s been a long time since basic training, and Angela’s spine was perpetually bent from leaning over stacks of medical documents, but she tried her best as she stood in the lineup with the rest of her comrades.

“I expect nothing but the best.” Voice like water from a cold spring. Biting, sharp, but oh so satisfying. Angela actively ignored the shudder down her thighs as combat boots clicked with authority down the line. “I know this squad is elite, considered the best already. What that says to me is that our standards are that much higher. Perfection is unattainable,” she said that with a small smile that made Angela _really_  question that statement, “but that means we must continue to strive.”

Angela felt eyes upon her, and realized all too late she’d been caught staring. Captain Amari’s eyes flickered down to the badge on her shoulder and Angela hated that she couldn’t yet read her expression. “Right, Dr. Ziegler?”

“Uh…um, yes, ma’am.”

Another smile. God Angela could get used to those. “Very good. Now, let’s begin.”

Angela wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready.


	78. Post Traumatic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pharmercy prompt - fareeha has been distant lately and its been a while since they've been intimate, angela confronts her about it one day-T

Maybe a warning about mental disorders?  Some angst.

–

“Fareeha.”

“Hmm.”

“Look at me.”

She does, turning her head from the paper to meet Angela’s steel blue eyes. Angela is not pleased. But, more so than anger, there’s a sadness. Fareeha flips the paper onto the counter and turns in her chair to face her lover. 

“Angela? Are you okay?”

“I’m really not sure.” 

Fareeha swallows at that and Angela continues. “You barely look at me these days, ‘fall asleep,’” she holds up air quotes, “on the couch or in the study to keep from coming to bed. You haven’t touched me in–

She stops as tears line her eyes. Angela shakes her head, trying to will them away before looking to Fareeha for an answer. Fareeha isn’t sure she has one. Angela has told no lies, but it’s still hard to hear, harder still to confront…this which has come between them. But it’s been hard to think lately, harder still when Angela looks terribly hurt and it’s all her fault. Angela, however, has had enough of Fareeha’s silence for the past few months. She waves her hands in the air, and Fareeha’s heart clenches, knowing what’s coming. 

“Fine. Fine, if I’m the only one in this, Fareeha,” their eyes meet, two storms waging with silence in between, “then I’ll take my leave.”

Angela wants Fareeha to fight, to reach for her and argue. Like she used to. But this isn’t the Fareeha she knows anymore. That Fareeha doesn’t appear until Angela turns and is nearly out of sight. If she hadn’t been so desperately waiting for it, she wouldn’t have heard it. 

“I haven’t been sleeping.”

Angela stops in the doorway, but can’t yet make herself turn around. Still, she waits, because it’s something. And talking to Angela’s back is far easier than talking to her front right now, so Fareeha continues. 

“Nightmares. Bad ones. Sometimes I wake up  kicking  and punching and…it’s why I haven’t been coming to bed. Maybe not nightmares. Memories really. Like, like I’m right back there. The same smells, sounds…fears.” Fareeha swallows again, fist clenching and unclenching as she tries not to get swept up in those memories that carry her away sometimes. “So it’s…that’s why I…I have no excuse.”

She hangs her head and Angela lets the tears fall from her eyes.  _“Ach du meine güte,”_ Angela mutters, fingers gripping painfully at the wall before she turns. “Fareeha.”

Their eyes meet, and Angela gives a sad smile as she turns and comes nearer. “I’ve been so stupid. I should have seen the signs.”

Fareeha shakes her head, bottom lip trapped between her teeth. “I didn’t wanna worry you.”

“Darling.”  Angela pulls Fareeha’s head to her chest and holds her close, comforting her as best as she can. Subtle sobs stain her shirt but Angela only holds her closer. “I’m so sorry, _Liebling_. I’m so, so sorry. We will get you help. I promise.”  

Fareeha sniffles against Angela’s chest and plays with the soft hairs at the nape of her neck. “Good, because I’ve missed you.”

“God, I’ve missed you, too.”

* * *

 

*ach du meine güte–Oh my goodness


	79. Pen Pal-K

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original idea: Pen pals meeting for the first time.

‘Red scarf, cream blouse,’ Repeated over and over in Fareeha’s head. She sat in a quiet table at a noisy café, trying to will her eyes to lift to the door. But her nerves kept her eyes downcast to the letter next to her fork. Dark fingers drummed a beat over top of the folded paper, teasing hints at the handwriting underneath.

Sloppy, chicken scratch really. Indicative of the physician Angela claimed she was. Fareeha smiled at the swirl in her signature. Who would have thought that an answer to an online medical survey would lead to this? Fareeha had long since been removed from the survey due to these extenuating circumstances.

“Saiidi tea,” the waitress said as she placed a cup of near black tea on Fareeha’s table. Fareeha smiled up at her in thanks as she laid down some milk and sugar and with her eyes momentarily lifted, she caught sight of red.

She couldn’t look away. A red scarf nestled around a cream blouse. Fareeha swallowed, hand going to the patch on the left arm of her jacket–the jacket she wrote she would be wearing. Her heart hammered down in her stomach, rendering her tea nauseating. A blonde ponytail faced her, scanning the opposite side of the café. Fareeha stood, concerned that Angela may leave before looking her way. As it stood, she merely looked like a fool when Angela turned. Her eyes widened, dropped down to her jacket, and the both of them froze.

This was it. Fareeha had written this woman countless times over the year, anticipated every letter and pondered over every word in her response. Angela’s eyes–so blue–spoke the same volumes. Pink lips slowly pulled into a smile and Angela took the first step, weaving through the tables and drawing ever closer. Deciding she couldn’t wait another moment, Fareeha moved as well. Angela was shorter than her, narrow waist and a smile that made Fareeha’s movements jerky. They met in the middle, neither willing to take the last step, and simply stared.

Angela had imagined someone tall from Fareeha’s letters. Tall and confident like her words, an assuredness that cannot be learned. She did not anticipate such a sharp beauty. Defined jaw and cheekbones, intense eyes and broad shoulders.

“Fareeha?”

Angela’s voice had the subtle lacing of an accent. Fareeha smiled and hinted at her own with a soft, knowing, “Angela.”

Angela beamed and the world brightened for a moment before blue eyes looked over Fareeha’s shoulder. “Saiidi tea?”

“This place has the best.”

“I’m eager to try it.”

Fareeha extended her hand. Angela wasted not a moment in taking it.


	80. Clothes-M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pharmercy clothed sex (it's Angela's kink ;) )

As it often did, the make out session turned heavier than anticipated. Angela sat atop Fareeha’s waist, jeans pulled tight as she leaned over to suckle on a long column of neck. Fareeha groaned, head tilting to the side as she grips at Angela’s tight ass in even tighter jeans, fingers digging and bouncing off the taut surface, catching on pocket linings with little popping sounds. Angela hummed at a growing love mark and nestled against Fareeha’s collar, the smooth silk of her blouse tickling her cheek. Fareeha’s blouse was white, her bra black. And this was 100% intentional.

Angela sat up with a smirk, and took her time in raising her arms above her head. The band around her wrist snapped as she popped it off and wound her hair up in a messy bun, too short bangs falling over her blue eyes. Fareeha’s normally burnt umber eyes had stoked themselves into a searing black, half lidded and wanting as her hands gripped wide, pale hips. Keeping upright, Angela let her hands roam down Fareeha’s clothed chest, feeling the rise of breasts and muscles as she delved lower. A quick tug and the blouse was pulled from her black slacks. Fareeha gasped at the sudden rush of air to her abdomen and Angela smirked. Fingertips danced underneath the fabric, feeling what she couldn’t see, before she undid one button, then another. Slowly the blouse fell away, save for where Angela left a lone button in the middle, obscuring the plane of her abs and bottom of her breasts. Her breasts which now rested happy and full in her bra, being on her back.

“Mmm.”

Dipping down, Angela explored Fareeha’s chest with her nose, running it along the line of her bra, over her soft bra, and down to catch on that straining button. Fareeha’s stomach clenched as a hot breath blew upon it, and she laughed quietly at her reaction as Angela undid the snap of her slacks.

Angela had seen Fareeha naked many, many times. Every time she became more glorious under the doctor’s observant gaze. But sometimes, even better than Fareeha naked, was the idea of her naked. Button strained and teasing at that lovely ochre skin. Her bra that concealed the oh so responsive dark nipples. The slacks that covered a thin thatch of hair and a wetness that Angela’s mouth watering. All of it right there, and yet not. It aroused her to no end, being so close. Sliding down a bit, Angela raked her teeth over the bottom of Fareeha’s exposed abs, feeling more than seeing them hitch. Another smirk at Fareeha’s groan and Angela slid up again, catching that full bottom lip with her own as her hand slid down the slacks.

Angela didn’t go beneath the underwear. She didn’t need to. Fareeha had soaked through it, and her pleased hum makes Fareeha moan softly. Angela toyed with the wetness, rubbed firmly against Fareeha’s clit through the fabric, and positioned herself so she was straddled over one of Fareeha’s thighs. Fareeha understood, her leg rising to press hard against her. The sensation was incredibly muffled through two pairs of material, but it was enough for Angela. Who knew that Fareeha could feel her heat, and who could feel that thigh tighten. Angela groaned and began to rock her hips, fingers diving beneath Fareeha’s underwear to finally tease her clit. Fareeha’s back arched off the couch hips rocking against Angela’s hand as she sighed and moaned her name, Angela took her bottom lip in her teeth to calm herself as she gripped the straining button of Fareeha’s blouse, using it as an anchor for her own thrusts.

The material strained and stretched beneath her grasp, and the button would likely pop. Angela smiled at the thought, palm flattening to feel those breasts bounce with each of Fareeha’s sharp hip movements. Despite the muffled sensations, Angela grew closer. And as she did, her hand sped up against Fareeha, sending them both into a frenzy of hands and moans and sighs. Angela’s face flushed a lovely red. Fareeha’s mouth parted, lips swollen from their kissing, and Angela couldn’t resist another taste as she came, moaning deep into Fareeha’s throat. Fareeha tasted the sound of her orgasm and replied with her own, body shuddering beneath Angela as pale fingers worked her through.

Fareeha’s clothes were ruined.

The second set this week.


	81. Tipsy-K

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> writing prompt - pharmercy, angela is a very flirty drunk

“Want me all to yourself, hmm?” Angela coos as she’s led out of the party and into the warm night air. The grip around her waist tightens for a just a moment before she hears a throat clearing.

“I thought you could use some fresh air,” Fareeha says, eyes forward. After a few drinks, Angela didn’t realize that the woman she was flirting with had a fuming boyfriend just a few feet away. When Fareeha saw him crack his knuckles, she thought it best to intervene. The shirt she’s wearing is new, and she doesn’t want it stained with a jealous fool’s blood.

Angela hums and dips her head back, eyes falling shut as she stretches her arms over her head. “You look nice tonight, Fareeha,” she says, eyes opening into a smolder.

Fareeha swallows as she watches Angela give her a slow and obvious once over. She adjusts the collar of her shirt and stuffs her hands in her pockets. Praise in general makes her uncomfortable, and it’s increased by a factor of ten coming from Angela.

“Sleeveless suits you.” Angela kicks off the wall and steps forward. “May I?”

Fareeha has no idea what she’s asking permission for, but nods anyway. Angela smiles wide, almost arrogant, as if she knew she’d get her way. Fareeha would find it frustrating if it wasn’t so lovely. Pale fingers stretch out to caress to caress a dark bicep, firm even when relaxed. Angela has touched Fareeha many a time, hands careful and gentle as she patches a stray bullet wound or wraps a workout injury. Always it sends a thrill up Fareeha’s spine, fills her already clouded mind with images and fantasies and desires. Tonight, Fareeha is not alone in this. And she knows by the way Angela rakes her teeth over her plump bottom lip. Her thumb traces over a vein, squeezes gently, and slides upwards to her shoulder.

“Funny thing about nanobots,” she says, taking a step closer. “They filter alcohol out of your system as well. At an accelerate pace.” Angela smiles but Fareeha is lost in those eyes. Hopeful, worried, deeper than Fareeha can ever dream of discovering but she would spend her lifetime trying. “So here I am, finding myself suddenly sober and without the liquid courage to dare any farther. Tell me, Fareeha, what should I do?”

Fareeha blinks. Her tongue feels listless in her mouth and sounds are deafened by the hammering of her heart in her ears. She hopes she’s not screaming and stuttering when she says, “You should let me take over.”

Angela sighs at the feel of Fareeha’s hand sliding around her waist. Better than she had imagined. And she’s grateful that she’s no longer drunk, because she wants her senses keen for this moment she’s wanted for months. Fareeha pulls her in close, elegant neck dipping down as Angela rises on her toes. The only alcohol between them rests on Angela’s tongue, and Fareeha finds she quite likes the taste.


	82. Flustered-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Angela flusters Fareeha

It’s not often that Angela cooks. Rarely does she have the time, and even if she did, it would require her to stop working long enough to register she was hungry. A bad habit, she knows, and sets a daily timer for reminders to make sure she’s eating healthily. How would it look if Overwatch’s resident medic didn’t take care of herself like she instructs others to do? 

Still, sometimes the notion grips her, a desire for pasta or chicken or something other than the microwaved delicacies she usually indulges. She’s in the kitchen, reaching down for a pot to boil water, when Fareeha walks in. Usually, when Angela’s in the kitchen, the smell of coffee brewing follows her. Not this time, however, and Fareeha, curious, steps closer. She rounds the counter and nearly collides with Angela’s ass. Round and in the air as the medic searches beneath the cabinet. Fareeha’s hands fling up and outward, a spastic motion to keep her from gripping Angela’s ass instead, and she backs up several paces, bumping into a chair. 

The ponytail turns, and Fareeha catches a blue eye watching her curiously, the profile of a smile. “Hello, Fareeha. Care for some spaghetti?” 

“Uh,” Fareeha blinks and regains herself. She’s not that hungry, but nods anyway, eager for the pleasure of Angela’s company. Angela straightens with the pot, and slides it under the sink. The spray of the water catches the rim of the pot and splashes Angela’s face. Fareeha grabs the pot to adjust as Angela laughs and steps back. 

“Goodness. This is why I don’t cook often.” 

Fareeha smiles over at her and is caught off guard by the droplets of water running down Angela’s jawline. It drips slowly from her chin, onto her white shirt which is dappled with  clear spots. A few rivulets run into her cleavage and Fareeha clears her throat as she looks away, reaching for a rag and extending it. Angela takes it, squeezing Fareeha’s fingers as she dries off. Fareeha knows her cheeks are vibrant, radiating heat. Her fingers itch to touch and she keeps eyeing the doorway to her bunk as if it will make something happen. Angela is gorgeous, always has been. But as they’ve grown closer it’s becoming harder and harder not to notice certain…aspects. Aspects that Fareeha finds _incredibly_  attractive despite her soldier’s will. 

She doesn’t quite register Angela pulling the pot from her hands. Only the swell of Angela’s generous ass as she turns, and the taper of her waist. Fareeha blinks and looks away politely when Angela turns back around, only to be beckoned again by her soft voice.

“Fareeha.”

Fareeha’s eyes lift, and she finds Angela leaning back against the counter, giving her a playful look. “You can look. I like when you do.”

Fareeha’s eyes widen, head shaking automatically as she tries to find an excuse for her actions. But Angela simply chuckles and saunters over, placing her arms around her neck. Finding that Fareeha somewhat resembles a fish, Angela places a finger under her chin and closes her gaping mouth. Fareeha’s eyes are everywhere at once, looking, wanting, _desiring_ , and Angela tilts her head. 

“Have you heard the phrase a watched pot never boils?”

“I-I, uh, yeah.”

“Good. So we must keep ourselves distracted so we don’t look over there.” She juts her chin to the stove. 

“Oh. Okay.”

“Do you have any suggestions.”

“Um, suggest–oh. Um.” Fareeha laughs nervously, dipping her head. Her brain has lost the ability to think, mouth to speak. Angela is too close, smells to good, feels too wonderful. And her laugh is music when she giggles again, fingers tracing the back of Fareeha’s neck.

“Well, come over here, and we’ll see if I can’t give you some ideas.” 

Still dumbfounded, Fareeha obeys. 


	83. Workout-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mercy helps pharah workout ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) sits on her back during pushups etc

Sweat poured down Fareeha’s face. She could feel it dripping off of her nose, running under her chin, and soaking her shirt. But she just had a few more. She could do it. She always did. Finishing a push up, she locked her arms for a moment and watched the droplets collect on the mat below. That is, until the person seated atop of her wriggled, nearly throwing Fareeha off balance.

“No breaks,” came the all too cheerful Swiss accent. “Your rules,” she added upon seeing Fareeha’s opening mouth, “not mine.”

Gritting her teeth, Fareeha descended again, focusing more on Angela’s gentle grip on her shoulder than the pain in her arms. “I didn’t make a rule about you putting on extra weight, did I?”

She knew that would grant her a smack on the arm, and chuckled when Angela made a disgusted noise at the sweat and quickly wiped it on her pants.

“I saw you get that second slice of cake at the meeting yesterday,” Fareeha spoke again, finding it surprisingly distracting from her chore.

“Of course. It was Swiss roll!”

“They aren’t really Swiss and you know it!”

For a brief, shining moment, the weight of Angela sitting on Fareeha’s back lifted. Before, that is, it came toppling back down on top of her. Rather than sitting along her spine, Angela instead flopped herself across Fareeha’s length, chin resting on her shoulder and toes touching ankles. Fareeha grunted at that and lowered herself again.

“And here I thought you liked my curves,” Angela purred as Fareeha came up. Neither of them could miss Fareeha’s shudder, nor the second that followed when Angela laughed low in her ear.

“You know I do. And you know I’m just being a shit, right?”

“Aren’t you always?” Despite the sweat, Angela pressed a kiss to Fareeha’s cheek and stood, making sure to sway her hips as she walked away. “By the way, you passed your reps about 20 push ups ago.”

Beaten, once again, by the best physical trainer she would ever have, Fareeha collapsed onto the mat with the smile, knowing that when she got the feeling back in her arms, she’d quickly put them to use again.


	84. Body Worship-M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can we get some body worship kink, please? Specifically, Fareeha body worshipping Angela's sweet, wonderful thick thighs and ass? Nsfw, of course...

Angela was reclined on the bed, knees hanging over the side, eyes closed. Naked from the waist down, she smiled as felt fingertips along the tops of her feet. Fareeha smiled as well, following her fingers with her lips. Angela’s feet were small and a bit bony. Fareeha sometimes watched her wriggle her toes, tendons flexing beneath soft skin. Her ankles were delicate, dainty things, ticklish if Fareeha’s touch was light enough. Right now, however, Fareeha wasn’t looking to make her lover laugh.

Fingertips skated along pale calves, soft and smooth, the muscle beneath firm even when relaxed. Fareeha massaged them both for a moment, chuckling as she heard Angela sigh from the bed. A quick kiss to each knee, and Fareeha rose and admired. Angela was beautiful. More fact that opinion. But only Fareeha had the privilege of seeing her like this. Pale, thick thighs, bared and laid slightly splayed before her. Her shirt covered most of what lied between, but Fareeha could see the darker blonde curls, and reminded herself to be patient.

“Shirt off.” Though it sounded like a command, Fareeha still raised her eyebrows to imply the question.

“You don’t have to ask,” Angela answered with a smile as she pulled her shirt over her head.

“But I always will.”

Mercy’s smile widened and she slid her foot along Fareeha’s leg. Fareeha Smiled back, eyes roaming slowly. She liked when they went slowly. When she could take her time and study the curves of Angela’s body. Angela’s waist was narrow, but her hips flared out, not fat, but strong. Even now Fareeha could see the slight touch of shadow where her hip bones were. She leaned over, gripping Angela’s sides, and kissed each hip bone, nipping slightly to make Angela hitch. A gentle tap had Angela turning onto her stomach, and Fareeha let her nose skim up the valley of her lover’s back.

Angela’s back was exceptional. Hills and valleys of muscle of and bone, hard earned from maneuvering her Valkyrie wings. A bit to Angela’s neck had her shoulder blade popping out, back tensing to where Fareeha could feel the strength against her torso. She nipped and licked her way down every inch of skin on Angela’s back until she reached the swell of her backside. Fareeha couldn’t help but groan a little as she kneaded the still strong but supple flesh of Angela’s ass. Angela groaned in return, both in arousal and frustration, and Fareeha bit down playfully.

“Are you finished yet?” Angela teased, turning her head to grace Fareeha with a tender smile.

“Never.” Fareeha finalized her point with a slap to Angela’s ass.


	85. Vanilla-M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can u do a really Vanilla pharmercy

They’d started out on the couch. One kiss turned to two, then four, then tongues got involved, and the rest is history. They never were very good at just kissing. Now, Angela lay over top of Fareeha, one thigh between her legs, applying gentle pressure as they kissed. It was sloppy, the love and trust between them too strong for any sort of embarrassment. Tongues and lips desperate to be closer. Fareeha gripped at Angela’s shirt, bunching it up and sliding her hands under to feel the warm skin beneath. Her hips ground themselves slowly against Angela’s firm thigh, simply enjoying the pressure as the arousal was more than ready.

Angela broke the kiss, breathing heavy and crooked smile before she dipped her head to Fareeha’s neck. She found the spot they both loved and Fareeha arched into her, hands sliding underneath Angela’s sweat pants now to grip her ass and keep her close.

“Don’t worry,” Angela breathed into her ear. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’d better not,” Fareeha answered, grabbing the blonde’s chin and pulling her back for another kiss. Angela smiled against her lips and pushed her thigh just a bit harder. Fareeha groaned and exposed her neck again to Angela’s mercy.

Fareeha felt Angela’s fingers along her jeans, and lifted her hips automatically. Angela raised onto her knees just long enough to pull her pants and underwear off before kneeling down again. She stopped at Fareeha’s stomach, lifting her shirt to kiss the abs that flexed beneath her touch. She then traveled downward to Fareeha’s hips, sucking hard until she left a mark as Fareeha liked. A few kisses on the insides of her thighs before Angela finally moved in. She always started slowly, whether Fareeha liked it or not. She liked to taste, to explore, to relearn the body she memorized.

Her tongue went flat, sliding upwards for just a moment’s pleasure before repeating. Fareeha sighed and ran her fingers through Angela’s hair, gripping just enough to make her presence known. Angela liked that, like that Fareeha still wanted to be as close to her as possible at all times. She smiled against her, and quickened her pace. Fareeha tried her best not to move, but it was hard not to rock harder and harder against such a wonderful feeling. Her head dipped back, sighs and moans and Angela’s name leaving her lips, growing louder and louder until she finished with a cry, hips shaking and fingers tight on Angela’s hair.

Angela pulled away with a gasp, wiping her mouth and resting her head on Fareeha’s thigh. Only for a moment until she’s beckoned upward and into her lover’s arms. Fareeha was sure to return the favor…once she came down from her high.


	86. Blackout-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pharah giving mercy an orgasm so intense that mercy blacks out and pharah, standing there wide-eyed, isn't sure what to do afterwords seeing as how she's never had this happen before.

There was the rocking of hips, as usual, cries and moans and gasps, as usual. There was the thrill of the climax, as usual, and that wonderful ear-splitting cry, as usual.

What was unusual, however, is how quickly the cry stopped. How quickly those hips stopped moving, and how quickly the room suddenly filled with a lonely silence. Fareeha lifted her head from Angela’s shoulder, where she’d been working on a lovely mark, and found her lover’s eyes closed.

“A-Angela?”

No response. Fareeha’s eyes widened, ear immediately going to her chest. Her heartbeat sounded normal, breathing even. Did she need a doctor? Fuck, the doctor was unconscious. Fuck, how would she explain this to a doctor. Fuck, what if Angela was in a coma, a vegetable. Fuck. Medic. Literally.

In the midst of Fareeha’s reverie, blonde eyelashes fluttered open. They peered around for a moment and found Fareeha looking very intently at her left breast, eyes wide in panic.

“Leibling, are you okay?”

Fareeha snapped up, and despite the quick gesture, the hand to Angela’s cheek was tender. “Oh god, Angela. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, why?”

“I…you passed out? I think?”

Angela thought back for a moment, then laughed in that gentle way that made Fareeha’s worries disappear. “Congratulations, Fareeha. An orgasm so intense I lost consciousness. Not unheard of, but a first for me.”

Fareeha smiled tentatively, and eased herself onto Angela, head on her chest and surrounded in her arms. “I don’t even care about the ego boost. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. And I’m sure we’ll see about that ego boost tomorrow.”


	87. Spat-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> really angsty prompt: Pharmercy, really bad spat

It was very rare for Angela Ziegler to lose her composure. She’d battled her way through medical school, her career, and Overwatch, dedicated to keeping people safe and healthy. She couldn’t afford to lose her cool.

Yet, despite her training, her long years of service, her incredible deeds, she was only human. And Fareeha, as in all things, was a special case.

She stood in the living room, arms crossed and heart racing as they stared each other down. Fareeha looked almost arrogant, cruel. They were close enough to pull the big punches, the ones that really stung. They’d both said regrettable things, both far too stubborn to back down.

“Are you gonna say something?” Fareeha snapped, voice rising.

“I think you’ve said enough for the both of us.”

“Don’t pull that shit. Don’t act all fucking high and mighty with me.”

“For god sakes, Fareeha, I’m just being me! And if it bothers you so much then maybe you should do something about it!”

Fareeha’s eyes darkened. “What are you saying?”

Angela didn’t quite know, didn’t care at this point. Against everything she believed, everything she had been taught, she just wanted it to hurt.

“Go.”

She expected an argument, another fight, perhaps even an apology. But Fareeha merely shook her head and stomped out the door with a slam. It was unclear whether she would return, and Angela never felt more alone.


	88. Early Morning Cuddles-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pharmercy prompt! very sugary and fluffy: a giggly and lovey angela and a cuddley fareeha on a bright summer morning

The sun peered in through the slits of the curtains, warming the room with lights. Inside the room, two figures lay very close together and waking. One more so than the other.

Angela woke with a smile. It was one of those mornings where you wake up completely comfortable and at just the right temperature. The fact that Fareeha’s arm has draped itself over her stomach was an added bonus. Angela peered over at her lover, smile widening as she found her still asleep, face buried into the pillow and covered in dark hair. She brushed it back gently, revealing the tattoo along her eye and traced the soft skin of her cheek. Lips followed, unable to contain herself, and she hummed happily as pressed kisses along Fareeha’s cheek.

Fareeha hummed, more asleep than awake, and blindly reached out with her arm. She found Angela and pulled her closer, resting her head on her chest. Angela laughed softly and kissed the top of Fareeha’s head before running her fingers through her hair, scratching her scalp. The pleased groan Fareeha gave told her it was more than welcome, and Angela laughed again.

Angela felt lips against her chest, and was practically giddy with love. She pressed her lips to Fareeha’s head again and spoke softly her love. How she felt, everything she loved about Fareeha, their relationship. Fareeha, still dozing, probably wouldn’t hear all of it. But it needed to be said, and the occasional kisses to her chest told her everything she needed to hear.


	89. Cheesy Films-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pharmercy watching cheesy romance films together

“This guy is far too smooth,” Fareeha said as she shoveled more popcorn into her mouth.

Angela turned her head from the movie and peered up at her, face eerily pale in the sole light of the tv. “What’s wrong with being smooth?”

Fareeha shrugged, the arm around Angela’s waist tightening and pulling her closer. “I dunno. Just seems like he’s far too in control.”

“He’s set up an elaborate plan to woo this girl. Shouldn’t he be in control?”

Fareeha huffed in a way that compelled Angela to raise up and kiss her cheek. A kiss to the forehead was returned to her and she smiled as she went back to the movie. A few moments later, when the elaborate plan was enacted, Angela couldn’t help but coo.

“That is so sweet,” she half-whined.

“I guess.”

“You don’t like it?”

“He’s just too…”

“Smooth?”

“Yeah.”

Angela sighed in defeat, still smiling and shooting her head. “Whatever you say, darling.”

Fareeha sighed as well, sinking into the couch to be more level with Angela. “I don’t know, I was a nervous wreck when I first asked you out.”

Angela giggled at the memory. “I know.”

“And when I asked you to move in.”

“I know.”

“And when I asked you to marry me.”

“I know.”

Fareeha grinned and pulled Angela up for a quick kiss, fingers finding the ring on Angela’s finger and tracing it. “I dunno, I guess my point is that when I asked all of these things, I was terrified. Terrified that you would say no. Not that you owed me anything but because I knew, deep down you were the one for me. And I wanted everything to be perfect and I ended up stumbling over lines and having panic attacks. But I kept trying because I needed you. Needed to love you, to make you happy, and I was going to give it my best shot. But I certainly didn’t feel…smooth.”

A few moments of silence passed before Angela shifted, throwing herself onto Fareeha’s lap. She blocked most of the like from the tv, face near hidden in shadow, but Fareeha could see the intense line of her jaw, her set mouth and shining eyes.

“It’s just a movie, liebling,” Angela whispered. “You are real, and you are better than fiction. Better than anyone could ever hope to write. I’ve always known it, and it’s why I keep saying yes to you. Always yes.”

Fareeha grinned, feeling herself too emotional for the moment as she pulled Angela down for a deeper kiss. When they pulled away, Fareeha gave a shrug.

“I dunno, Angela, seemed too smooth.”

The popcorn thrown in her direction was well worth it.


	90. Dimples-M/E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> headcanon where thicc ass Angela also has back dimples where Fareeha also hooks her thumb into while they're having sex.

Angela sits over top of her, panting and red faced. Moans escape with each exhale, and Fareeha can feel her thighs trembling around her. She’s lost count of how many orgasms she’s given her, but she’s still hungry.

“One more,” Fareeha says, hands sliding up her thighs.

Angela tilts her head back, eyes closed for a moment before she dips back forward and their eyes meet. “Fareeha…”

They’ve been together long enough that Fareeha understands what she’s saying. It’s not a no, but it is an uncertainty. Angela needs Fareeha to take the reins, to do all of the work, and that’s exactly what Fareeha intends to do.

“One more,” she repeats as her hands slide around Angela’s waist. Above her thick, rounded ass, just before the  implants, there are dimples. Angela once described them as a harmless defect of something or other but Fareeha doesn’t care in this moment. Her middle finger slots perfectly into each one as she grips her, and thought she can’t see it, Fareeha can imagine the sight of Angela’s back. Muscles revealed, the valley of her spine, the symmetry of her implants, narrowing down to that tapered waist before flaring out into what could be described as a very, very generous ass. And where the spine ends, two little divots just above the swell. Divots that have seen their fair share of love. Fareeha didn’t know how she came to be so blessed but she refuses to be ungrateful as she begins working Angela’s hips back and forth over top of her.

Angela whimpers, already weak, and falls forward, palms just above Fareeha’s shoulders. Her hips work with Fareeha, finding the rhythm that has her gasping and moaning. Fareeha digs deeper into her backside, finding more purchase, and lifts her hips into Angela to help. A lift of her head, and she can enjoy Angela’s breasts, too, finding the nipples and sucking gently as Angela loves. Angela begs out her name, whimpers and moans combining into something beautiful. Fareeha grits her teeth and moves faster, nails digging crescent shapes that Angela will fawn over tomorrow.

Angela is on the verge, so close she’s grinding desperately for that one thing to push her over the edge. Fareeha  knows what she needs and grips her chin with one hand, pulling her down for a searing kiss. She can taste Angela’s moans, feel the desperation and pleasure on her tongue. And pulls away with a soft, “Come for me.”

Always effective, Angela topples over the edge with a loud cry and stuttering hips, head dipped back to reveal that glorious, already marked neck. Fareeha massages her ass gently, knowing she had an iron grip, and lets Angela do as she pleases, until the woman has melted completely over top of her, head resting just under her chin.

“You okay?” Fareeha whispers into a tuft of blonde.

“Mm-hmm. Thank you,” comes Angela’s hoarse response.

“Thank you for letting me.”

Angela gives a laughing sigh at that, and for awhile they’re content to bask in the warm silence of their love.


	91. Captive-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: fantasy au with witch mercy and knight pharah and them falling in love

“I’ve brought you some water.”

The witch looked up from her shackled hands, chapped lips cracking as she smiled. “Well, aren’t you the noble one.”

The knight’s armor rattled, ladle in her hand veering dangerously to one side. She knew of the mistreatment of the witch. The evidence was still swelling around her eye. She had been too late then. But she was here now. And be she a heretic or no, there was no need for senseless cruelty.

“I am sorry about that. Had I been here—

“Is that water for me? Or are you just here to tempt me?”

The knight stuttered forward, hand extended awkwardly before she regained herself. She placed the ladle in the witch’s palms and watched her drink eagerly.

“Shall I fetch some more?”

Renewed by the water, the witch cackled and leaned back against the wall, eyes closed. The knight studied her hair, bones braided into blonde knots. They were small bones, animal maybe. Used in a ritual, a sacrifice? The knight swallowed at the thought.

“Do not mock me with false kindness,” the witch finally said, waving her shackled hands in dismissal.

“It’s not false. It—

“It is useless to me,” the witch snapped, blue eyes snapping open and locking onto the knight. “Come tomorrow I will be hanged. One more drink of water will not change that, no matter how good it may make you feel.”

The knight swallowed, and the witch laughed low and mournful. “Your armor creaks when you’re nervous, you know. How very telling.”

Knowing when she was bested, the knight turned and made her way from the cell. She looked back once to find those blue eyes upon her once more, and made a vow that she would see them again. No matter the cost.


	92. Tender-M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm thirsty af can u write domestic pharmercy making sweet tender love on a rainy day

It started with a laugh. A silly joke about the rain pouring down outside had Fareeha’s eyes wrinkled, lips pulled back to reveal stunning teeth, and that ever lovable, deep chested chuckle.   
  
Angela, being only human, couldn’t resist. She rolled over top of Fareeha on the bed and kissed her. Slowly at first, then deeper as hesitations of morning breath fell away to their desire for each other. Fareeha’s hands, large and strong, gripped at Angela’s back, keeping her close. Angela smiled against those lips and tasted her tongue, hips sinking to rock gently against Fareeha, never close enough.  
  
Tender words exchanged between them, felt more than heard, as Fareeha turned her neck and gave Angela access. Each suck and nibble had their hips colliding softly, a plea for more but also to never stop. Bodies sweating under the sheets, stomachs sliding easily, but neither of them noticed or even cared.  
  
Angela slid her hand between Fareeha’s legs, tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth. Fareeha moaned softly and brought her own hand between Angela’s legs, smiling when Angela’s movements stuttered. They kissed again as Angela raised on her knees, legs spread so they could both pleasure the other.  
  
It was an awkward angle. They were clumsy in their distractions, but it didn’t matter. Their bodies were together, mouths and fingers searching for more, desperate to be just that much closer, lost in the moment of each other. They wanted somehow for their souls to entwine and become one, and would strive for as long as it took.  
  
Until finally they crashed over the edge together, moans and gasps and mumbles of love. Sweating and breathless in each other’s arms until Fareeha made a joke that ended in a laugh.


	93. Insecure-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pls write Angela being really insecure about something and Fareeha doing her best to comfort her

Moira O'Deorain had returned. And with her came a slew of questions and concerns. But none were more concerned than Fareeha. She walked quickly down the halls of Gibraltar, eyes narrowed, until she came upon Angela’s door. She knocked softly three times, then once more, and entered. 

She found Angela hunched over at her desk, scribbling like mad. She could tell from her raised shoulders and rapid scribbling that she was angry. It was an emotion Angela rarely employed, and it was all the easier to see. 

“Angela.”

The doctor huffed and sat back, hoping the motion would mask her sniffle. But Fareeha was all too focused on her lover now, and she smiled gently as she placed her hands on Angela’s shoulders. Unsurprisingly, they were tense, and she grimaced in sympathy as her thumbs ran over a multitude of knots, digging in.

“What’s wrong?”

It took a few minutes for Angela to answer. For her tears to calm enough for her throat to be cleared. “Why do I even bother?”

“With what?”

“With anything. My work is…” Angela leaned forward, arms folded around her head as she rested against the desk. Fareeha could make out the rise and fall of her back as she began to sob. 

“Angela,” Fareeha whispered, reaching out again. 

“Look at Genji!” Angela shouted, though muffled by her arms. “I…I ruined him. He hated himself for so long. Your mother stole my technology to _kill_ other people. And now Moira.” Angela couldn’t finish. She merely shook her head bitterly, disgusted. “All I do is hurt people.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“You can’t tell me it’s not. Look around, Fareeha. I’m…I’m a–

Fareeha hushed her, circling around the chair and crouching down by Angela’s side. She placed her hand on Angela’s head and scratched her scalp. “I don’t know what you were going to say, but it’s wrong. You’re brilliant, and selfless, and you’re _helping._ Regardless of what other fools do. You can’t help what others do. You can only try to make it better.”

“But–

“Look at Genji now. How at peace he is, how happy. Look at everyone here and the adoration they have for you. You’re a good person, Angela. Don’t let others make you feel like you’re not.”

“Fareeha. This isn’t like I’m having a spat with someone. They’re using my tech for global harm!”

“And we will deal with it. Because they are wrong. You are not. I won’t relent on this. I just totally trash talked my mother. There’s no end to what I’ll do.”

Angela cracked a smile at that, and allowed Fareeha to pull her into her arms.


	94. Jelly Gym-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So we've seen jealous Pharah, but can we see jealous Mercy?

If there was one thing in the world Angela Ziegler hated, it was an elliptical. A mocking menace of a machine that never seemed to help shape her lower body like it promised. Yet here she was, pedaling away like a madwoman. And it’s because she was. She was a mad woman.

She paid no mind to the burning in her legs or her racing heart and hurried breaths. She had eyes only for the skinny redhead over by the weights. The one casually leaned against the mirrors and smiling widely at the woman next to her. Angela could only see the back of Fareeha’s head, but she’d better not be smiling back. 

Fareeha was doing hammer curls, and Angela knew better than anyone that when Fareeha worked out, she was exceedingly focused. It was that thought, and the thought that she was overreacting, that kept her from getting off the elliptical. If she just kept pedaling her irrational fury away, then everything would be fine, right?

The redhead laughed, way too loudly, and reached out to touch the bulge of muscle on Fareeha’s arm. Angela didn’t see Fareeha flinch and pull away, didn’t hear her go into a kind explanation that she was taken. She only saw the initial touch, and lost her balance by running herself right off the elliptical. 

She tumbled off of the machine and smacked onto the ground, suddenly very grateful for the cushioned flooring. Her body hurt all over, and she couldn’t distinguish what was a work out pain and what was a fall pain but she didn’t care. She heaved herself up off the floor, prepared to march over, only to find Fareeha standing in front of her. She reached out and pulled Angela close.

“Are you okay?” she whispered into her hair.

All the jealousy Angela felt melted away in that moment, and she simply sighed and hugged her back. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

Fareeha smiled down at her and reached over to shut the elliptical off, pulling back in surprise. “Holy shit, did you really just do 20 miles on this thing? How is that even possible?”

“Oh, that reminds me, you might have to carry me home.”


	95. "Friends"-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so, this may be stupid and unoriginal and I understand that I am just a hopeless, longing person but maybe- and just hear me out on this- Mercy is hanging out at some place *cough, some cafe, cough* with her friends (or so-called, according to her), and because peer pressure is the worst (you'll than us later, they said), she has to go over and talk to that beautiful lady over there with the tattoo under her eye, and wow, what? We're meeting up again? Ok, ok, please excuse my horrible blush.

“You have been staring at her for the last fifteen minutes.”

Angela turned to glare at her friend who sipped her wine, eyes locked. “What? You have.”

“Have not.”

She totally had. The woman at the bar was gorgeous. Sleek, black hair, lovely, brown skin, and a smile that Angela could _feel._

“Go and talk to her. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” Another friend said as she swayed to the music.

“I couldn’t possibly.”

“Why is that?”

“She’s…she’s far too young.”

“Angela…this is an over 30 mixer.”

“She could have snuck in.”

Her friends laughed, as they often did, at her expense. Another patted her on the back. “Go and speak to her. We’re not leaving until you do.”

Angela sighed. When her friend decided something, it was absolute. She finished off her wine and turned to make the slow walk over to the bar with her empty glass. This woman was completely out of her league. Out of the league of everyone here. She was absolutely going to make an ass of herself. At least her friends would enjoy it. She made her way up next to the woman and lifted her empty wine glass to the bartender with a smile.

The woman glanced her way, and for a moment Angela thought it may have lingered, but that was crazy. However, when she turned to the woman, she found her already looking. And Angela felt herself faltering.

“U-uh, hi?”

“Hello, I’m Fareeha” the woman answered, and dammit all her voice was amazing too.

“I’m Angela. I’m, uh, here with my friends,” Angela flicked her thumb towards their table. Fareeha glanced over before turning her attention back to Angela. “My friends made me come over.”

“Made you?”

“Yes, they’re hoping to embarrass me by having me ask you out and be turned down. So don’t feel bad about turning me down.”

“Why would I turn you down?”

“I…huh?”

Fareeha chuckled, catching her bottom lip between her teeth before speaking. “I’ve been staring at you since I got here.”

“That can’t be true. I’ve been staring at you and I never noticed.” Angela’s eyes widened at her reveal but Fareeha only chuckled again.

“Maybe you were distracted like I was.”

Angela felt herself smiling, only slightly more confident as she took a sip of her refilled wine. “So…would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Very much.”

As Fareeha took her phone to enter in her number, Angela dared a glance back at her friends. They all stared at her wide eyed, more surprised than supportive. She raised her middle finger towards them, an short of getting Fareeha’s number, nothing felt better.


	96. Coping-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Pharmercy helping each other cope with losing people they tried to protect. With a positive ending! Thanks!

Fareeha disappeared into herself. Mouth set in a firm line, eyes forward, conversation by necessity only. The job would always get done. She would never allow herself to fall, not realizing she’d already hit the ground. Friends and acquaintances alike were brushed off or bulldozed over. They wouldn’t understand. And they didn’t need to. It was her problem and hers alone. Or so she thought.

Angela, mercifully, was the only one allowed inside the walls Fareeha had built around herself. And even then it started out tentative. While Angela had a knack for being able to talk one’s ear off, she didn’t need to speak to Fareeha. She merely let herself in and observed Fareeha sitting on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands. A  sigh offered in sympathy, and Fareeha felt the bed dip as Angela climbed behind her. She was bracing herself for a “not right now” talk when she felt Angela’s hands on her shoulders.

Years of experience had her dexterous hands finding knots quickly and working through them. Fareeha hadn’t thought herself tense, exactly,  but she couldn’t help the soft groan that escaped as Angela worked. Angela made no comment on it, simple worked out each and every knot until Fareeha could roll her shoulders without tension. Then Angela leaned forward, arms around Fareeha, and pressed their cheeks together. Fareeha waited for her to say something until she realized that nothing needed to be said. And tears she’d held back for so long began to stop, releasing under kind of tension inside of her. Eventually, Angela helped her work through all of that as well.

Angela was the opposite. She threw herself into anything but herself. Working long hours, accepting any and all invitations to socialize, finding new hobbies and restoring old ones. She made herself too busy to think about it. And therefore too busy to cope. Anyone not close with her wouldn’t see the bags around her eyes, the stress in her smile, the over-eager way she wanted to forget or ignore something.

Closer friends may have noticed something, but still it wasn’t their place. People coped in different ways after all. But Fareeha knew. Fareeha knew what she was hiding. And Fareeha remembered how Angela had been there for her when she didn’t know she needed it.

So when she came in and saw Angela readying herself for another night out, Fareeha went forward and hugged her from behind, kissing the bare skin of her shoulder. “Stay in tonight.”

“I’ve made plans,” Angela answered, voice rising at the end almost like a question, her gentle way of asking if something was wrong.

Fareeha kissed her shoulder again, met Angela’s tired eyes in the mirror, and smiled. She turned Angela in her arms, picking her up and carrying her to the bed. Angela squealed, playfully swatted at her, and giggled when she was plopped onto the bed. Her laughter ceased however when Fareeha climbed in  beside her and pulled her close.

“Fareeha, what–

“Shh, just lay here with me.”

Angela sighed, giving up her next comment, and allowed Fareeha to simply hold her close. And in the silent darkness of their bedroom, with the safety of her lover surrounding her, Angela could not ignore it.

Fareeha felt the tear stains on her collarbone before she heard the sniffling, and pulled Angela tighter, letting her heaving sobs bound against her. She rubbed circles into her back, kissed her hair and forehead, and let Angela be Angela for as long as she needed.


	97. American Drugs Are a Trip-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt where Angela has to take Fareeha to get a wisdom tooth removed and coming out from her high, Fareeha forgets that she's married and is in awe that Angela, the pretty woman by her side and holding her hand, is her wife :D

Fareeha’s wisdom teeth never used to bother her. That is until they started bothering her. Though not an issue to her other teeth or nerves, their odd location made them difficult to clean, and after her fifth gum infection, she decided that removing them was a better alternative. Angela had, of course, assured her that it was a minor procedure, done all the time, minimal risk, all the typical doctor jargon spoken in soft tones that ran sweeter to Fareeha’s ears. 

However, what neither of them had counted on was being in America for the surgery. And where in most countries their patients are kept awake during the procedure, the United States prefers a strong horse tranquilizer cocktail that wreaks havoc on the short term memory. 

So imagine Swiss Angela’s surprise at walking into the recovery room finding Fareeha with a swollen mouth, head wrapped in ice bags, and a bleary eyed smile.

“What in the world have they done to you?” Angela asked with a slight giggle, reaching down to examine the medical chart. 

Fareeha blinked her eyes into focus at the sound, zeroing in on the woman in the room. The red sweater and messy bun didn’t exactly seem like doctor attire, but she was reading her chart. 

“Holy shit you’re beautiful.”

Luckily for Fareeha, her mouth was so stuffed from gauze, all Angela could hear was a garbled mess. She looked up from the chart, now fully aware of Fareeha’s condition, and smiled at the line of drool creeping down her normally composed lover’s chin. Fareeha watched, mouth still agape, as the gorgeous woman reached into her purse for a tissue, then came closer. 

“Still a bit numb, it would seem,” she said quietly at their closeness, dabbing at the drool before tossing the tissue into the trashcan. Fareeha then felt a hand on the not so numb part of her cheek, stroking gently. 

“Are you my doctor?” Fareeha’s intoxicated mind struggled with morals and ethics and fantasies of sweeping this woman off her feet. 

Angela chuckled. “I am a doctor. But more importantly I’m your wife.”

Angela looked down and Fareeha followed to find those soft hands stroking a ring that was on her very own finger. She had yet to close her mouth, and Angela’s hand jerked away quickly when it was nearly slathered in more slobber. 

“Goodness, Fareeha, close your mouth,” Angela chided while laughing, cleaning her up again. 

“I can’t I’m in awe.”

“Of what.”

“Heaven.”

“Heaven?”

Fareeha unceremoniously dipped her head forward again, allowing the copious amounts of spit and blood soaked gauze in her mouth to fall into her lap, oblivious to Angela’s insistence on stopping. “That’s better. Now I can woo you sexier.”

“With three pounds of bloody gauze in your lap and your head wrapped in ice?”

“This must be heaven because only in heaven could a beautiful woman such as yourself be my wife.” 

Angela’s initial anger at Fareeha spitting out her gauze subsided, cheeks turning pink. “You just have some memory loss right now, liebling. It will pass.”

“Liebling. Do you call me that?”

“I do.”

“Are you German?”

“Swiss.”

“Chocolate!” Fareeha shouted so loudly it startled her wife. “I’m gonna get you some Swedish chocolates.”

“Swiss chocolates.”

“That’s what I said.”

“You said Swedish.”

“I’ll bring you some meatballs too then. Whatever you want. Anything for you, always. Build you a fuckin’ Ikea desk.”

Angela laughed then, hand moving to cover her mouth. Fareeha’s eyes widened, face softening from its Swedish determination as she pulled Angela’s hand away from her mouth. “You’re so beautiful,” she whined, toes poutily pulling against the sheets. “God, how are you so beautiful? And how did I get so lucky?”

Angela felt her heart warming, as Fareeha always managed to do, lucid or not. “You should see yourself, liebling. I’m the one who got lucky.”

Before Fareeha could formulate a response, Angela leaned over and kissed her. Just a peck, mind, considering what had just gone on in that mouth of hers, but a kiss nonetheless. When she pulled away, she heard the sound of the heart monitor quickening in pace, and grinned at Fareeha’s wide eyes.

“Gonna build you a million fuckin’ Ikea desks.”

Angela’s laughter could be heard down the hall.


	98. Hot Witch Mercy-E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> can u write more hotwitch mercy

Fareeha had never considered herself a fuckboi. She was a soldier for christ’s sake, a leader, a pillar of the community. She loved women, yes, but she also respected them. Yes, conclusively, she was a good person.

But, fuck, if she didn’t want to pin Angela against the wall right now and go three fingers deep. She couldn’t help it. The Halloween party was in full swing, everyone was drunk, the music was too loud, and Angela was wearing…wearing _that._ That tiny, far too small, skimpy little orange and black witch number. Fareeha always thought that bouncing, jiggly breasts were more a man-made anime construct but there they were. Breasts literally bouncing inside the corset they were raised so high. Threatening to flood over at any moment and Fareeha was more than willing to catch them with her mouth. 

She shook that thought from her mind, as she had all the others, and took another drink. The liquor burned, and she didn’t want to think about how many calories she’d drunk tonight, but she needed it if she was going to survive this night with any modicum of dignity. 

Angela was busy dancing in the living room. She wasn’t half bad, but it wouldn’t matter if she had no rhythm at all, because when she swiveled like that, the skirt flew around and Fareeha was graced with the sight of those thick, creamy thighs. All muscle, of course, Angela trained as well as the rest of them. But the sheer volume was all genetics and Fareeha was pretty sure she’d found a new god in between them. Or perhaps god lingered on her ass. At the very least the part that could not be contained by those black booty shorts. Fareeha, once again, found herself staring at the shadow that defined her ass from her thighs, the solo cup in her palm crunching slightly from her gay overload. 

Angela turned around and Fareeha forced her eyes upwards, broken from the witch’s spell only to find those baby blue eyes locked on her. Fareeha swallowed, the cup finding its demise in her palm as it crushed entirely, the rest of the liquor spilling out through her fingers and onto the floor.

She’d been caught. The witch smiled, way too arrogantly to not be hot, and strutted over, heels clacking once she reached the tile of the kitchen. Still keeping eye contact, she pried Fareeha’s solo cup from  her palm and tossed it into the sink. 

If Fareeha could go back in time, she would go back to this moment, where she honest to god squeaked when Angela brought her fingers to lips and licked the liquor from them. She would slap herself and tell her to get a goddamn grip.

As it stood, Fareeha could only stand, wide eyed and dry mouthed, as her fingers were ravaged by Angela’s hot, wet, tongue. She hummed softly when she finished, still holding onto Fareeha’s hand, dragging it over her chest. “You’ve been staring a lot tonight, Fareeha. Something on your mind?”

Fareeha watched as Angela steered her fingers over her breasts, soft and slightly cool from their exposure. Fareeha could see the goosebumps rising along that creamy skin and used every inch of her military training to pull her eyes away and form words.

“You…you’ve bewitched me all night,” Fareeha managed with a laugh, utterly relieved when Angela laughed as well. 

“Maybe that was my plan, hmm?”

Fareeha’s eyes widened again. Angela laughed again. “You seem a bit flustered, so lets just get it out of the way. Do you want to come upstairs with me?”

“O-oh fuck.”

“That was my plan, yes. Only if you want. If you prefer to watch I can always go back to dancing.”

Words were lost to her. All she knew was that she’d been invited. Invited to let all of her newfound fuckboi instincts take over and take this woman to new heights. And then hopefully take her to breakfast afterward. Then maybe marriage. She was getting ahead of herself. Angela was still waiting, witch hat cocked to the side and full lips parted in a sinful smile that she sure as hell wanted to taste. Now.

Fareeha grabbed her hips, spinning to press Angela against the fridge. Angela gasped, but Fareeha caught it with her lips, body shaking with want as she tasted Angela for the first time. It was warm and slightly sweet from what she’d been drinking but Fareeha didn’t care. It was Angela, and it was so, so good. She felt short nails digging into her shoulder, running up and down her biceps and squeezing them, hips rocking against her own. Fareeha could have stood there forever with Angela in her arms, and indeed would have. If the witch hadn’t grabbed her chin and pulled her back with a laugh. Angela’s lips were already starting to swell, glistening from smeared lip gloss, and chest heaving. 

“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” Fareeha wasn’t sure if she knew any other words. 

“Bedroom, stud. Bedroom first,” Angela answered, grabbing Fareeha’s blood soaked tie (part of her American Psycho costume) and leading her up the stairs. The music was loud even up here, but Fareeha could only hear her own hammering heart, could only focus on the way Angela swayed her hips and that soon, she would see her without the hindrance of this costume, as sexy as it was. 

“Can we even be up here?” Fareeha managed as Angela opened a door.  Angela curled Fareeha’s tie agonizingly around her fingers, plump bottom lip between her teeth. 

“Do you really care?”

Fareeha swallowed, saw the open bed over Angela’s shoulder, and attacked again. She lifted Angela into her arms and  barreled in, mumbling an apology when the door hit Angela’s shoulder. Angela didn’t seem to mind as she slammed the door behind them and was subsequently pinned again. This time, she was held up entirely by Fareeha with her legs around her waist and grinding slowly. 

Fareeha moaned into her mouth, daring to nip at Angela’s lips and tongue as her hands ran up and down those thighs. She could feel the strength in them, the muscles clenched as they locked around Fareeha’s waist, smooth and soft at the same time, littered with goosebumps. Fareeha started to rock her hips against Angela,  smiling when she heard the witch gasp and move with  her. She pulled back for just a moment to turn the lights on. Angela blinked at the sudden brightness, cheeks flushing even further when she noticed the intensity of Fareeha’s stare. 

Angela’s cheeks were obviously red, chest splotchy as well, hair slightly mussed from being pinned twice against walls, lips swollen and eager and Fareeha didn’t want to miss a moment of this woman in the darkness. 

Taking advantage of the space, Angela quickly undid Fareeha’s tie and pulled her shirt apart. Buttons popped and fell to the floor but Fareeha barely noticed. All she could see was Angela, eyes growing hungrier as they feasted on their prey. Short nails skimmed along her abs and back up. Fareeha smiled and threw her hips forward once, causing Angela to gasp and dip her head back. 

Easing Angela’s legs back to the floor, Fareeha turned her around and pushed, causing Angela to lean against the door on her hands with her ass out. Angela moaned again as she felt Fareeha press against her ass, weight draped over her back as Fareeha began to bite at her exposed shoulders. 

Fareeh tested each bite, feeling Angela shudder against each one before moving to her neck and biting there. The witch rocked her hips back against Fareeha, fists clenched against the door. Fareeha’s hands moved around to Angela’s front, cupping her breasts before slipping inside the outfit. She found her nipples and pinched them gently, hands working in slow circles. Angela hissed  and rocked against her again, begging for more in a broken breath. 

Fareeha  obliged, pulling her breasts out from her outfit and pulling as she ran her teeth along the ridge of Angela’s ear. Angela swore (Fareeha assumed) in another language, hips rocking back against Fareeha. “Please.”

“Not yet,” breathed hotly into her ear again before a harsh pinch to her nipple. Fareeha had spent the entire night fantasizing about this woman. She wasn’t about to rush it. 

She did pull back, however, finding the knots of the corset and undoing them. She took her time, only slightly rocking her hips against Angela’s ass as she did so. When that was released she found the zipper to the outfit underneath and pulled that down. Angela wore no bra, and the vast, pale expanse of her back halted Fareeha in her tracks. Every divot of her spine, the curve of her shoulder blades, the subtle hints of muscle, the outline of her body. Fareeha had never  seen anything more beautiful. 

Angela felt fingertips taking their time down her back, goosebumps rising wherever they touched. Short nails traced back up before Fareeha’s mouth followed. Hot, open mouthed kisses to each notch of her spine as her hands circled around to trace her stomach. Flat, but firm, heated and quivering beneath her palm. Fareeha closed her eyes and worshipped Angela’s back as she worked the rest of the costume off and into the floor.  

Angela still had her booty shorts on, but it was her turn to explore. She took advantage of Fareeha’s distraction and turned, pushing her back and onto the bed. Fareeha’s legs still hung over the end, shirt ripped open but still tucked in, looking so fucking good in a suit it should be illegal .The white lace bra beneath the button up only added to Angela’s arousal as she straddled Fareeha’s  waist. 

Fareeha’s mind was on repeat as she stared up at this woman. Breasts large, nipples pink and pert, long stomach and just the shadow of a hint of hip bones beneath the booty shorts. Fareeha had just put her hands on Angela’s waist when the witch moved foward, pulling the shirt from Fareeha’s pants. She urged Fareeha to sit up, and she was more than happy to, immediately latching onto those breasts as soon as she was close enough.

Angela let out a surprised moan,  hand burying itself in Fareeha’s hair before she returned to her task of removing the shirt and unclipping the bra. Once that was done, however, it felt far too good to do anything more. 

Fareeha’s tongue circled and swirled around her nipple, tugging and pinching between her lips. Occasionally, she would ever so gently skate her teeth across them, causing the witch to shudder  and pull her head closer. Fareeha switched back and forth between each breath, always seeking more, until Angela finally stopped her by raking her nails down her back. 

Hissing, Fareeha leaned away, and Angela smiled, taking her chance to push her onto her back again. She batted away Fareeha’s eager hands and scooted herself up to Fareeha’s exposed abs. Fareeha’s breath caught as she felt the wet heat of Angela against her skin but her hands were batted away again. She was still in her shorts, but Angela began to grind anyway. She leaned forward, hands on Fareeha’s breasts as she began to work herself against those abs. She whimpered softly, and Fareeha could do nothing but watch as she felt wetness sliding along her stomach. 

She wanted it. Badly. Wanted to feel how wet Angela was, taste her, take her, make her moan louder and louder. But she was paralyzed by the enchantress over top of her, using her as she willed and loving it. Angela bit her bottom lip as she rocked, following it with a lick, and Fareeha could take it no longer. 

She grabbed Angela’s waist and flipped her over.  Not wasting a moment, Fareeha parted Angela’s legs by crawling between them, hand sliding into  the shorts. They both moaned as Fareeha touched her, explored her. She was so wet it was difficult to find her clit. But  Fareeha was determined, and she kissed Angela as she found it, tasting her moans as she began to circle. Angela had been pent up ever since she saw Fareeha watching her, and it took all of her will not to come immediately. Like Fareeha, she wanted to savor this moment. Savor the beautiful, sharp, strong woman over top of her with burning eyes. 

Fareeha teased her endlessly, fast and slow and hard and soft, until Angela grit her teeth and moaned out a beg. Then she kissed her once more and slid  down that long pale body, kissing each patch of skin on her way. 

Having had enough of the shorts, she made quick work of them, tossing them over her shoulder as Angela was revealed to her. Eager to see her in all of her glory, Fareeha stood and looked over at this masterpiece, finger still gently working between Angela’s legs. 

Angela moaned loudly. At the touch, but also at the sight of Fareeha. So tall and strong, abs defined, looking hungrily down at her as she still wore her suit pants. She had never seen anything sexier. “Please,” she begged again. And this time, it was so desperate, Fareeha had to give in. 

With a tug, she pulled Angela to the end of the bed, legs hanging over, and fell to her knees. She smiled once at Angela, receiving a playful rock of the hips,and pressed her mouth against her. She kissed her clit once, teasing Angela with the possibility of more, before using her tongue to explore her. She memorized every fold, every texture, until Angela was a writhing mass of swears. With one last kiss, she began to lap at her clit, hands running themselves over Angela’s body. 

Angela’s back arched in pleasure, mouth open as she gripped Fareeha’s hair and guided her to all the right spots. Fareeha knew exactly what to do, making her  moan and shudder and lose all sense of anything but the sensations of her body. Rising her higher and higher, until she was just at the peak, then pulling away. 

A loud groan filled the room, this time one of frustration. But Angela couldn’t be angry for long as  she looked down at those soft eyes. Fareeha smiled almost  shyly at her, and Angela felt her fingers gently circling her entrance. 

“May I?”

Angela nodded, too breathless for words,and cried out as she felt Fareeha enter her, tongue working magic against her clit. Fareeha’s fingers went slowly, pushing in and pulling all the way out slowly, fingers slightly curled. All the while her tongue went wild, fast and hard and in all the right places. Angela couldn’t control her hips, couldn’t control her screams. All she could do was writhe as she felt herself drawing near. The hand in Fareeha’s hair tightened, pulling and shaking and Fareeha moved her fingers just a bit faster, the wet smack echoing in her ears and making her moan. 

Fareeha’s moan did Angela in. The slight vibration against her had her coming, body shaking and stilling and writhing as Fareeha kept her motions, wave after wave hitting her until it became far too sensitive and her body jerked away. Fareeha did not follow. She slowly eased her fingers out, finding her shirt on the floor to clean herself, and rose up to watch Angela. 

Angela’s entire body was flushed pink, warm and shuddering slightly. Angela’s eyes were closed, a permanent, lax smile on her lips. Just as Fareeha thought she would fall asleep, Angela’s hand reached blindly out, fist opening and closing. Fareeha obeyed, crawling onto the bed and laying beside her to keep her warm. 

“I knew you’d be good,” Angela murmured as she snuggled closer. “I knew you  would do exactly what I wanted.”

Fareeha dared a kiss to her shoulder, pleased when she was not shrugged away. “You’re amazing, Angela.”

The witch chuckled then, eyes opening to meet Fareeha’s. “Just you wait, stud. I haven’t even worked my magic on you yet.”

For the second regrettable time tonight, Fareeha squeaked.


	99. Family Theme-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: fluffy pharmercy, family-themed

They’d only been home from the hospital a few days, but the place was already a mess. Toys galore on the floor, a mess of bottles and burp rags in the kitchen, and a far underused shower. 

Still, Fareeha was all smiles as she sat next to her wife on the couch. The baby in Angela’s arms was so strikingly small, so beautiful. As she often did, Fareeha leaned over and pressed her nose to the impressive tufts of black hair and inhaled deeply. The sweetest thing she’d ever smelled, Fareeha pressed a kiss to the baby’s head and pulled away with a smile. 

Angela returned it, stealing a kiss of her own from her wife, and gently bouncing the infant in her arms. Not much however, as she was very much enjoying her breakfast, latched like a vice to Angela’s breast. 

“Definitely my daughter,” Fareeha commented, causing Angela to giggle. 

“I’m not sure if I like that connection.”

“What? She’s a boob person. Too young to worry about whose boob.” 

“You’re a mess.”

“Your mess.”

“My mess.”

They kissed again, parting when she started to cry. Fareeha quickly took her from Angela’s arms, standing as Angela got herself back in order. The baby babbled against Fareeha’s shoulder, punctuated by the gentle taps Fareeha gave to her back. Angela watched for a moment, immobilized by her immense happiness. Though an advocate for peace, she never thought she’d see it in her lifetime. Yet here it was, both in her daughter and the strong arms holding her.  

The baby burped loudly and Fareeha nodded in sympathy. “That had to feel good.” Fareeha had always been kind, always been wonderful, but with the baby something had changed. Walls  had come down, tensions eased, and she was now quick to laugh and make others laugh. 

And Angela did just that, laughing as she rose and brought her arms around Fareeha, their daughter gently sandwiched in between. “I’m exhausted,” she said finally with a sigh.

“God, me too,” Fareeha answered, still gently tapping the baby’s back.

“But you know what?”

“What?”

“I’m so happy.”

It could be blamed on the new baby, on both of their hormones still raging, on a multitude of things. But whatever the reason, tears filled Fareeha’s eyes at the words. She’d loved Angela for as long as she could remember, and making her happy had been and always would be making her happy. 

“Me,” she paused to clear her throat, “me too.”

Angela leaned over and kissed her again. “You’re a softy.”

“Don’t tell the kid. I have an image to uphold.”

“Of course.”


	100. Tits or Ass?-M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hello! if you're still taking prompts: Angela raises the age-old question, is Fareeha more of an ass person or a boob person? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“There was an interesting conversation at the office today,” Angela started, eyes still downcast towards her book.  
  
Fareeha had her own book in one hand, the other idly massaging the feet in her lap. She looked up from the text, followed the black leggings up to the oversized sweatshirt (Fareeha’s, actually) and smiled at the messy bun of blonde hair. “Oh?”  
  
Angela put her book down, finger still marking the page, and looked out into the living room in thought. “Yes. They were asking people if they were tits or ass. I thought for a moment that I wasn’t as fluent in English as I thought I was.”  
  
Fareeha chuckled, the hand on Angela’s feet sliding up to her ankle. “You’ve never heard that before?”  
  
“I must have missed it,” Angela laughed back. “But now it’s made me curious.” She turned and raised a brow at Fareeha.  
  
“Me?”  
  
“Yes. Tits or ass?”  
  
“I don’t think you realize how tough that question is.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
Fareeha then gestured to Angela’s form. “Yes.”  
  
The blonde cocked her head to the side, brow furrowed, as she often did when confused. Fareeha huffed slightly and dropped her book to the floor, turning and maneuvering Angela onto her stomach. In just the leggings, Angela’s ass was all but exposed, thick and rounded. Fareeha couldn’t help but groan slightly as she reached out and squeezed each cheek.  
  
“I mean, just look at this.”  
  
“I can’t,” Angela answered with a smile in her voice.  
  
“Then I will look at this.” She began to spank it gently, all over, feeling the firmness of muscle but watching the jiggle of the fat Angela could never rid herself of (and thank god, in Fareeha’s opinion). “It’s just so good, babe? So thick but muscular and the shape is magazine worthy.” She grunted in frustration, pulling the leggings down just enough to reveal the creamy white skin, and gently sunk her teeth into the flesh. “I love this ass.”  
  
“So you’re an ass person?”  
  
Fareeha scoffed, pulling the leggings back up and rolling Angela onto her back. Already knowing where this was going, Angela playfully rolled her eyes and lifted her sweatshirt. Fareeha’s eyes went wide. She’d been with Angela for a long time now, but that didn’t diminish the arousal that filled her every time she saw her lover. There was always something beautiful about Angela in each and every moment and Fareeha hoped that never faded.  
  
Now she looked down at Angela’s breast. They were large, heavy, and hung slightly without the support of a bra. But they were also rounded and pale, topped with large pink nipples that had Fareeha’s mouth watering. She reach out and gently cupped them both, feeling the smooth weight in her palms. “God, these are glorious. Just…just look…”  
  
She couldn’t finish her thought, she had to taste. Fareeha leaned down and kissed the top of Angela’s breast. She hummed softly as her lips touched the warm skin, moving to open mouthed kisses up and down each breast. It wasn’t all that sexual for either of them. Fareeha simply adored worshipping and exploring her lover in every aspect. Angela knew this, and the flattery of it all left a near permanent pink in her cheeks as she watched Fareeha savor her.  
  
For just a moment, Fareeha latched around a nipple, swirling her tongue just enough to get it to respond. Then she pulled away with a loud pop and looked again. Looked at the skin now reddened in spots from her kissing, nipples erect, the splotchy skin of Angela’s chest from the arousal it spurred. All topped off by Angela’s lovely face. So kind and soft, eyes filled with love as they gazed into Fareeha’s own.  
  
“Just…exquisite,” Fareeha murmured.  
  
“So…you’re a tits person.”  
  
Fareeha smiled, lowering the sweatshirt before laying gently overtop her lover. She nuzzled their noses for a moment before sharing a soft kiss. “Let’s just say I’m a you person.”  
  
Angela smiled, far more touched by this experience than expected. “I like that very much.” 


	101. Sprain-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It recently snow stormed here & I fell & sprained my ankle soo Pharmercy snowed in & Mercy has a sprained ankle & Pharah has to care for her fluff?

I normally answer prompts in the order they’re received but since you hurt yourself I’ll make an exception. Hope you feel better soon!

“Fareeha, it’s just a sprainnnnoowww,” Angela cried as her foot was lifted by her lover.

Fareeha nodded in sympathy but continued to move the injured ankle onto the pillow. “You’re the one that taught me this. RICE.” Fareeha stood and nodded, resuming a military stance, eyes forward, as she continued. “Rest, ice, compression, and elevation.”

“At ease, soldier,” Angela laughed. “Where was all this duty when I told you to salt the driveway yesterday?”

“You were supposed to salt the driveway, babe.”

“Damn, I thought you’d fall for it.”

Fareeha took in the sight of her girlfriend sprawled on the couch, foot bound and covered in ice, and couldn’t resist. “I’d say you were the one that fell for it.”

Angela groaned, grabbing a spare pillow to cover her face at the horrific pun. “The worst part about this sprain is I can’t run away from your jokes.”

Fareeha laughed and crouched down, pulling the pillow from Angela’s face and gracing her with a soft kiss. Angela melted into her lips, smiling softly when Fareeha pulled away. They’d had plans to play in the snow, still falling after going all night. But those plans were ruined when Angela, far too eager, had sprinted out onto the driveway and—for lack of a better term—ate shit. Still, just because playing in the snow was out didn’t mean their day was ruined.

“Want some hot cocoa?” Fareeha asked, pressing another kiss to Angela’s nose, the her cheek, followed by her forehead.

“With marshmallows?”

“Whatever you want.”

Angela’s eyes flashed devilish. “Remind me to sprain my ankle more often.”

“You’re sure it’s just a sprain?” The jovial mood went somber as Fareeha’s expression darkened.

But Angela just smiled. “Promise, liebling. I wouldn’t leave a broken leg unattended.”

“True,” Fareeha said, turning back to the kitchen. “I’m sure that violates some oath or something.”

“Or something.”

When Fareeha came back with two steaming mugs, she found that Angela had somehow worked off one of the large backing cushions of the couch and tossed it to the floor. “I want you near me,” she said, somewhat shyly at Fareeha’s confused expression. “And since I’m hogging the whole couch….” She gestured down to the cushion and Fareeha simply shook her head, offloading the mugs before setting herself down on the floor.

“Close enough for you?” she asked, scooting closer to the edge of the couch.

Angela already had a ring of chocolate along her top lip, but Fareeha had no qualms about kissing it off as her girlfriend leaned over and beckoned. Sprain aside, with the snow falling outside, hot chocolate sweet on her tongue, and the love of her life cuddled up next to her, Angela couldn’t quite imagine anything better.


	102. Unrequited-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for the pharmercy prompts, could i request some seemingly unrequited pining? they're both utterly convinced their feelings aren't reciprocated and maybe there's some angst  
> A/N: lots of angst

Fareeha was certain that what she felt for Angela was one sided. The woman was older, wiser, kind, gorgeous, a million other adjectives that could only scratch the surface of who Angela Ziegler was. Out of her league didn’t even begin to describe it. But she’d had this crush since she was 16 years old, and it only seemed to get worse as time went on.

Fareeha kept her eyes down, focused instead on her injury. She tried not to notice those slender, practiced fingers currently massaging her thumb. She wasn’t one of those that believed pain made you stronger, but in this instance, she welcomed the distraction.

“You’re absolutely certain you don’t want pain relief?” Angela asked again.

Courtesy had Fareeha’s eyes lifting to meet the person speaking, and it felt like hours before she found her words. Angela’s eyes, that misty blue, clouded further in concern, closer than Fareeha would ever be comfortable with. Fareeha looked down at her thumb, dislocated,  and nodded.

“Positive.”

Angela sighed, clearly disappointed, and Fareeha kept her head bent.  She never could do anything right in front of her.

Meanwhile, Angela wished more than anything to reach out and comfort the woman in front of her. Fareeha had grown so much it was hard to compare her to the young teenager from before. The one who hid from her mother in her office and shared in Angela’s secret candy stash. Now she was a woman, a soldier, a leader. Confidence laden behind a quiet strength that Angela admired. More than admired perhaps. The tattoo along her eye had faded slightly,  and Angela idly wondered if she would get it filled again. Longed to run her finger along the lines.

“If you insist. I’m going to need your cooperation.”

“Of course, doctor.”

“Fareeha,” Angela chuckled, and Fareeha had never heard a sweeter sound. “There’s no need for such formalities.”

Fareeha nodded but said nothing more. Angela placed her fingers gently along the dislocation and even that stung. But Fareeha needed something else to focus on.

“You’re going to want to fight me,” Angela said, dipping her head to find those dark eyes. This close, she could smell Fareeha’s shampoo, or perhaps perfume. Spicy, sweet, and subtle. Any closer, any braver, and she might dare to kiss those solemn lips. “But I need you to relax and let me do what I need to do. Otherwise, the pain will be for nothing and I’ll have to knock you out anyway.”

Angela meant it as a joke, kind of, but Fareeha merely nodded, looking as if she’d rather be anywhere but here. Recently, Angela had thought about biting the bullet and just asking Fareeha to dinner. But perhaps that was an exercise in futility.

Angela placed both of her hands on Fareeha’s, and pushed gently to test Fareeha’s tension against her. Fareeha’s face contorted, soft grunts escaping, but she didn’t appear to be fighting all that much. “Relax,” Angela said as she began to apply more pressure, trying to ease the thumb back into place. Normally, this was a fairly simple procedure. But normally, she did it on numbed or high patients. And despite Fareeha doing her best, there was always going to be more tension when the patient was alert and feeling. Not to mention, if Fareeha jerked or moved wrongly, they could catch something in the socket, resulting in a lot more pain. No pressure, then.

“Relax, relax,” Angela repeated over and over. It was moving, but it was a slow process, and the healer in her ached at the sounds of pain Fareeha made, however quiet. Dislocations were extremely painful, and while Fareeha’s reasons were her own, Angela hate to see her suffer.

Fareeha felt the pain, of course. It was excruciating. But despite all of that, she was more focused on Angela’s touches, on the kind way she spoke her, how she said they could be informal with each other. And with each grunt of pain she wanted to say…to say _something_ just to let her know.

Angela was getting closer, but felt this had already gone on for far too long. She was running out of options short of surgery. She had one last attempt up her sleeve, she just had to make it good. And she needed a good distraction.

“So, wanna go out sometime?”

Fareeha’s head snapped up, barely getting out the “Huh?” before Angela pulled sharply. The thumb popped back into place, and the cry of pain on Fareeha’s lips faded instantly into a sigh of relief. Despite that, Fareeha’s face still looked as if she was being tortured. Was Angela serious? Could it be true? Angela had chickened out in the ask, and upon seeing Fareeha’s face, chickened out again, offering a shrug.

“Sorry, about that. I just…needed to distract you.”

“O-oh…” Fareeha nodded, face calming somewhat, and Angela ran a hand through her hair, eager to get this procedure over it.

She grabbed Fareeha’s thumb and felt all around, moving it this way and that, checking the tendons, bending the knuckles. It was sore, of course, but far better than before. “I don’t feel a fracture but we can X-Ray to be safe.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Then I just need to brace it and you’ll be on your way. Leave it on for six weeks. And leave it alone. If you stress it before it heals it could pop right out again.”

“Of course, doctor.”

The rest of the procedure finished in silence, each of them mourning their lost chance, and vowing to let this silly, one-sided crush go.


	103. Angela Strapped-M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've seen a lot of prompts where Angela gets fucked with a strap on, but never Fareeha. Maybe a prompt where Angela pleasures Fareeha with one?

“Are you ready?”

And to be honest, at this point Fareeha didn’t know. It wasn’t that she didn’t _want_ it. She absolutely did. But it was so hard to think when Angela was just…just Angela. Sitting up on her knees on the edge of their bed, soft smile on her lips. Her hair was mussed from their previous adventures in the sheets, cheeks a lovely pink. Fareeha could already see the love marks forming on her pale skin. In the faint shadow of her stomach, on the tops of her breasts, signs that Fareeha had been there, and had claimed what was hers.

Dark eyes traveled downward, to the black straps tightened around Angela’s hips, the device that hung between her legs. It never failed to send a loving pulse between Fareeha’s thighs. Angela leaned forward a bit, placing a hand on Fareeha’s knee and squeezing gently. There was no pressure here, only love. And Fareeha smiled and allowed her legs to part.

Angela fell easily between them, as she always did, and Fareeha could feel the firm device pressing against her thigh as they kissed. Angela preferred to take her time, take it slow, make it last and last until Fareeha couldn’t stand it anymore. A little adjustment, and now when Angela rocked her hips, it slid against Fareeha’s clit, making her moan and arch. Angela smiled against her lips, already pleased with herself. And she should be. She was amazing at this.

“Are you ready?” said again, breathless from their kissing but no less considerate. This time, Fareeha’s answer was immediate, and Angela smiled as she reached down and adjusted.

It wasn’t all that big. Neither of them were here to show off. But still, Angela took her time, letting Fareeha adjust to the flared head before slowly bringing their hips together. Fareeha dipped her head back, exposing the column of her neck to Angela’s teeth as she felt herself being filled. When Fareeha’s nails began to dig into Angela’s back, Angela knew it was time to move. Almost all the way out, letting the flared head catch the tender spot inside of her, before pushing back in. Slow and calculated, as was Angela’s way to make sure everything was perfect.

Fareeha saw stars. Dancing in and out of her peripheral whether or not her eyes were closed. Her body pulsed with each of Angela’s thrusts, sparks shooting through her veins and out of the tips of her toes. Angela breathed life against her skin with every exhale, every touch, every kiss. All consuming. They couldn’t possibly be closer, but still Fareeha clung and pulled and scraped for more. More of everything. Until she couldn’t take it anymore. Angela hissed when the nails raked sharply down her back, but she would wear the scars proudly. Because nothing was more beautiful than her lover and making her happy. Angela slowed, just barely moving in and out to prolong Fareeha’s orgasm, until Fareeha’s hips twitched—too sensitive—and she slid right out.

Angela took the opportunity to throw the device away as Fareeha came down. It was much loved by them both, but when the purpose had been served it simply got in the way of their cuddling. Fareeha hummed happily when she felt Angela’s warm body drape over her again, arms lifting to wrap around her. They rolled to their sides, Fareeha’s eyes still closed. She smiled when Angela kissed the tip of her nose and traced the swells of their lovemaking along Angela’s back.

“Sorry,” she whispered finally, realizing how hard she’d scratched.

“Never be sorry,” Angela answered, as she always did.


	104. Pregnancy Hormones-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pregnant Angela having her first hormone crisis and Fareeha being a helpless goofball

“Chocolate chip cookie dough?”

The level of absolute devastation in Angela’s tone gave her wife pause. Fareeha stopped her task of stocking the fridge and turned to take a look. She hadn’t even begun to show, yet Fareeha would not have seen it anyway with the long, bulky sweater Angela had on. She still peered into the plastic bag, frozen, bottom lip quivering. Fareeha frowned, utterly confused but still concerned, and stepped over.

“You asked for mint. And strawberry. And vanilla. And rocky road. I got those,” she tried, voice light as she swung the bag filled with the ice cream.

Angela started to blink rapidly. Fareeha started to panic. “And I got the Twinkies you asked for!” she added, racing over to another bag. Their recent shopping trip looked more like a Willy Wonka explosion rather than food, but whatever Angela wanted, she got. And she got a lot. “And the sausage sticks!”

Angela sniffled. “I…I’m sorry I…I really want chocolate chip cookie dough.” She began to cry. Nay, sob, bunching the plastic handles in her fists and bringing them to her eyes.

Fareeha knew better than anyone that Angela wasn’t made of stone. She’d shed her fair share of tears in their time together. But never like this. This…Fareeha didn’t know what this was.

“Do you want me to go back to the store?”

“No!” Angela lifted, looking somewhat feral for lack of a better word. Eyes swollen and tears still spilling, cheeks splotchy. And no amount of sniffling could stop the running of her nose. “No, no, I’ve already asked to much. I’m so selfish. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I–

Angela stopped mid-sentence to leave the kitchen and throw herself face down on the couch. Even from her distance Fareeha could see Angela’s body heaving with sobs. Fareeha moved to the fridge again, movements calculated as if it were a mission, and pulled the cookie dough from the drawer. It wasn’t chocolate chip, and it wasn’t in ice cream, but she was a little short on options, not wanting to leave Angela in such a state. She tip-toed her way over to her wife and sat on the floor by Angela’s head.

The sound of a wrapper opening grabbed Angela’s attention and she turned to watch Fareeha open the cookie dough. Her eyes widened. She swallowed hard. As a doctor, she could not condone the consumption of raw eggs. As a newly pregnant woman, fuck that shit out the window.

Fareeha extended it slowly, fearing losing her fingers. Her fear turned into a smile, however, as Angela leaned over and took a massive bite of the cookie dough, cheeks swelling with effort. Her eyelids fluttered, eyes rolling back, a muffled moan escaping as she buried her face back into the pillow.

“Dasho fugin goo.”

“I won’t tell the medical board.  Have some more.”

“Nyeah.”

For the next ten minutes, Fareeha sat on the floor and fed her wife cookie dough, pausing only to wipe her eyes and nose. Later, when she’d calmed down, Angela would try to apologize. Little would she know that Fareeha had already filed this moment away as one of her favorite memories.


	105. Mission Return-E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fareeha gives her lovely medic wife the night of her life after getting back from a mission nsfw if you pls

Angela’s shoulders hung heavy as she pressed her key to the reader on the door. It slid open quickly, and she graced it with a soft smile before stepping inside. The smile was quickly replaced with a gasp as Angela felt herself catapulted back against the door. Strong hands lifted the back of her thighs, and instinctively Angela wrapped them around the not so mysterious person now pressing her against the wall.

Words weren’t necessary between them anymore. Angela didn’t have to hear Fareeha’s reasoning for this (much loved) attack. She’d missed her just as much, and the arms pulling her closer told Fareeha that. Fareeha went in for a kiss, only to pull back. In the soft light of the hallway, she took a moment to simply stare at her lover. The soft bags under her eyes, the way her mouth naturally parted, heavy bottom lip hanging in want. The tousled yet soft locks escaping from an overworked ponytail and those blue eyes that made her weak every time.

Fareeha couldn’t take it anymore. She cupped Angela’s cheek, fingertips gently guiding those lips upward until they met.  It started soft, relishing in the other, before Fareeha pushed a bit harder, hips sinking into the space Angela’s parted legs provided. Angela rocked her hips in response. Fareeha’s hands moved around, relying on Angela’s own strength to keep her legs up, and gripped her ass.

Angela whimpered against those hands, feeling the need in each squeeze, the desire growing stronger between them. It was awkward, pressed against the wall as she was, but Angela managed to remove her shirt, throwing it over Fareeha’s shoulder and out of both their minds. Seeing more of that pale skin revealed, Fareeha wasted no time in bringing her lips to Angela’s shoulder, kissing the collarbone before nipping along the dip.

Hips worked hard against the other,  more emotional than physical. But it didn’t stop Angela from growing every more aroused at being in her lover’s arms, helpless to her will. She moaned quietly and tipped her  head whichever way was needed to give Fareeha more access.

And because Fareeha was so strong, and Angela was so distracted, she didn’t notice the palm sliding between her legs until it had already found what it was looking for. She gasped, eyes shooting up to look down between them. Fareeha’s palm was wedged between them, but it didn’t seem to hinder its mobility at all as it unbuttoned Angela’s pants and slid inside.

The both of them had waited far too long today. Fareeha moaned at the wetness of her lover and took a chance, sliding two of her fingers inside and picking up a sharp pace. Angela lurched forward, crying out as she clung to Fareeha’s shoulders. The position was likely awkward, and Angela probably made it worse by moving. But all she could think about was Fareeha. Fareeha around her, inside of her, driving her wild. She turned her head to whine in Fareeha’s ear, smiling when she felt a shudder beneath her. Fareeha began to move harder, thumb occasionally catching her clit as it searched with the difficult angle.

But it was more than the touch that brought Angela over the edge. It was the palpable love between them, the trust in Fareeha’s strong arms and Angela’s strong legs, the way Fareeha’s eyes looked and the ever present gentility that always lied beneath her most feral gaze. It was all of the unspoken, built up over years and years of love, that had Angela crying out Fareeha’s name and shuddering around her.

And when she could take no more, Fareeha used the last of her strength to carry her to bed, where they never parted for the rest of the night.


	106. Pregnancy through Birth-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pharmercy pregnant Mercy, Pharah and D.VA feeling the baby move, through to after birth Prompt, fluff, doesn't matter. Get creative!

Neither Fareeha nor Hana could say when they first noticed Angela starting to show. When constantly around someone,  it’s hard to notice subtle changes. But they both remember the first time they reached out and felt the swell of life inside of her. Fareeha had been overcome with emotion,  blinking back tears and unable to speak, choosing instead just to smile. Hana had been wide eyed in disbelief but excited all the same.

And somehow, both known and unknown, Angela began to show more and more. Until bending over became difficult, then squatting, then just not bothering with it at all. Hana was quick to help in that regard, springing into action the moment she heard a clatter and a swear, diving to pick up the dropped item before Angela could even consider bending her knees.  Fareeha was on swollen ankle duty, her well-earned muscles coming  in handy to ease Angela onto chairs and couches and beds and rub the feet Angela herself could no longer see.

They took turns on midnight craving runs. Most of the time, Hana would still be up, gaming, and it was often easier for her to make a quick run to the store for beef jerky and pickle juice. Other times, Fareeha wanted to make the effort, and would stumble, eyes half-lidded, out the door for Twinkies and Mountain Dew. While sometimes annoying, neither would have traded it for the world. Especially when they thought of their child or sibling, the way Angela glowed as she seamlessly wove her way through the miracle of creation.

When her water broke, Angela’s experience and expertise won out over most nerves, but not all. Though Angela was all smiles and delight as she was escorted to the car, Fareeha couldn’t seem to calm her heart, nor Hana her hands. A relatively quick birth felt like years. Fareeha remembers holding Angela’s hand, tasting her sweat when she kissed her brow, the determination in her eyes and the horrific sound of her wife in pain. But she also remembers the first time she heard her new baby speak. A wail, rather, echoing around a room of smiles. The tears in Angela’s eyes that mirrored her own, the feeling of a life, so fragile, so loved, held in her arms.

Hana remembers walking in after, seeing their smiles, seeing the newborn and welling up with more pride than she ever would have thought. She remembers thinking about being a good role model, a protector, a confident, making promises and sealing them with kisses to the silky tufts of black hair. She remembers Angela and Fareeha encircling them, how small the baby was in her arms.

Angela remembers most of all the love that befell that room on that day. One that never ceased, but instead grew and grew.


	107. Undercover Jealousy Mercy-T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can we see jealous Mercy listening in from the backlines while Pharah is the one doing undercover work? (maybe like a continuation of the other one?)

It wasn’t often that Fareeha was called upon for undercover missions. Her tattoo was just a bit distinguishable, after all. Make up could cover it, but only for short periods. And anytime it was available, Fareeha jumped at the chance. She loved the thrill, the critical thinking, the action, all of it. Fareeha thrived in undercover work. And Angela loved watching her.

Angela was often called upon in undercover work. Either as a medic if need be, or sometimes as the agent. She had “a rather generic appearance” as Jack so tactfully put it. But Angela didn’t mind either job. She just wanted to help.

And help she was as she sat in a back room with the team, earpiece in place, listening as Fareeha waited for her client. She was in a warehouse with a local gang who supposedly had ties to a much larger syndicate. So far, it all appeared to be a false lead but they had to carry the mission through. Angela listened to the idle chatter coming from Fareeha’s mic and tried to pick out any pieces of importance before she heard the footsteps of someone coming closer in her ear.

“Hey,” an unknown woman said.

“Hello,” Fareeha answered.

“So, uh, you were pretty impressive out there today.”

“Thanks. So were you.”

Angela tilted her head, blinking a few times to try and calm her immediate reaction of intense jealousy. Fareeha was acting. She absolutely was, of course. But that didn’t stop Angela’s brain from having an intense reaction to the sound of her lover’s laugh in the mic.

“You’re not half bad looking either,” the other woman said, voice sounding much closer.

“You think?”

“Yeah, I think.”

There was a silence that lasted for years in Angela’s mind. She didn’t notice Jack giving her the side eye or the subtle sound of Genji shifting in his armor. She didn’t notice that she had taken on quite the glower, one had gripping the edge of the desk as the other kept the earpiece pressed tight. She did, however, feel Jack’s hand on her shoulder when Fareeha agreed to a date. They all knew, even Angela, that it was for the mission. But it didn’t hurt any less. Especially when Fareeha seemed to do it so easily.

She was angry all night, foregoing dinner and instead doing dishes. When that was done, it was just better to go to bed. She couldn’t focus on the text of her book, or the voices on the TV anyway.

It was a small blessing that she was still awake when Fareeha finally returned home. The dip of the bed was a small comfort. And the fact that Fareeha just seemed to know as she pulled Angela into her arms, kissing and apologizing against wherever she could reach. And all the anger and jealousy and insecurity melted away as Angela kissed her back and remembered that this, right here, was their reality. Not the job.


	108. Distance-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Angela thinks Fareeha is going to break up with her because she's been distant lately and has just told Angela they need to talk tonight, but in reality Fareeha has just been trying to figure out to propose

Angela was used to performing under stress. In fact, she probably performed better when under it. But that was because she was quick to find solutions, answers, anything to make that stress disappear. When she didn’t have an answer, it became quite…stressful.

Thus, was her state with her girlfriend. Fareeha had been quite distant lately. Angela didn’t sense any irritation from her lover, but the intimacy wasn’t there like it had been. The doctor had wracked her brain for days trying to figure out what had caused this change. Before this, she thought that she and Fareeha were happy, hopelessly in love. Maybe she had just been naïve.

Fareeha was younger, of course. Maybe she wanted something new, something different, an adventure Angela could not provide. Maybe she was tired of Angela’s late nights and occasional laziness. Any time Angela mustered up the courage to ask, Fareeha would brush her off with a smile and kiss. And both of those would be distracted, idle, as if Fareeha did it more on autopilot than want.

So when Fareeha asked to come over tonight, Angela had to face the facts. They were going to break up. Angela didn’t know why, and it hurt. She didn’t want to break up. She was a doctor. She’d much rather fix things. But if it couldn’t be fixed, then she’d just have to accept it. She couldn’t force Fareeha to be with her, and she didn’t want to. Tears welled in her eyes at the thought as she sipped her wine and waited at her kitchen counter. How stupid of her to have imagined marriage with this woman.

When her glass was half empty, she heard a key in the latch of her door. She’d have to remember to ask Fareeha for that back. For the moment, she was resigned. Angela had worked herself up over this for the past few weeks and now that it was coming to an end, she just felt drained. Fareeha stepped in, and they both shared a pursed lip smile. Angela gestured to the wine bottle. Fareeha shook her head and gestured to the couch. With a shrug, Angela got up and joined Fareeha.

Fareeha looked quite nervous, palms shaking and slightly sweaty as she grabbed Angela’s hands. Angela felt her own heart start to race. It was palpable now. The tears, the confusion, the potential fights, taking back what was theirs, removing each other from their lives. All the pain that came with a break up. Angela couldn’t take it anymore.

“Just do it,” she said, voice shaky as she turned to look at the carpet.

“Huh?” Fareeha answered, and Angela hated that she still found it adorable.

“I can’t take this anymore. You’ve been distant for weeks and I…just get it over with.”

“Angela—

“Please.”

Fareeha sighed. Angela couldn’t look at her. Not yet. She heard a shuffling, perhaps Fareeha preparing her speech.

“This wasn’t how I wanted to do this. But I couldn’t think of a better way,” Fareeha said quietly. “That’s why I’ve been distant. I’ve just been…trying to figure it all out.”

Angela didn’t answer, but she couldn’t blame her for that. Breakups were never easy. She felt tears in her eyes again and tried to blink them away. That’s when she felt Fareeha shift. And suddenly she blocked Angela’s view on the carpet. Those lovely golden eyes, teary as well. Angela thought for a moment on how she was going to miss those eyes until she realized Fareeha was smiling. Angela blinked again, focused on the situation in front of her. Fareeha on one knee, nervous smile, shining eyes, that tiny box in her hand. And inside was—

“Shit,” Angela squeaked. The exact opposite response she had planned in her many fantasies on this exact moment.

Fareeha chuckled, head dipping shyly as she reached for Angela’s hand and stroked the fingers. “I…didn’t know how to properly ask you to marry me,” she said quietly.

What were racing hearts and welling eyes and fears ceased. Angela simply ceased. She sat frozen, eyes wide and mouth agape as she tried to force a restart on her brain. She simply wasn’t prepared for this. And it took Fareeha speaking again to reboot her system.

“Um…is that a no, or…?”

Angela shook her head, thoughts now coming forward rapid fire. Too many words and speeches and explanations. And, god, she was just so relieved. The only response she had was to fall forward, arms around Fareeha and the little box between them, holding her and vowing, quite literally this time, to never let her go.  


	109. Shower Gays-M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pharmercy - they shower together and angela is ded bc of fareeha's muscles

There’s no real policy on dating in Overwatch. But perhaps there should be a policy on showering when you’re dating in Overwatch. Angela and Fareeha had only been on a couple of dates. And while it was going well so far, neither thought of the implications of a post-mission shower. Of course, they’d seen each other naked before. Both in the communal showers and the fact that Angela Ziegler is the resident physician. But now the context had changed. Now there was an admission of attraction, of want, of…of _things_.

Things, Fareeha thought to herself as she folded her shirt with shaking hands. Everyone else had already made their way to the showers. Some were already done. Fareeha re-folded her shirt. Angela had, kindly, taken the lockers on the other side and was currently hidden from view. But what was the protocol? Was Fareeha allowed to stare? Was it lewd? Would she want to stare? If she didn’t would Angela be offended? What if Angela looked at _her?_ Fareeha swore under her breath. Maybe she should just shower later. Except she smelled.

Just do it. Her military training kicked in, and the rest of her clothes came off in a flash, folded neatly on the bench before she headed into the showers. She kept her eyes on the floor, common procedure in communal showers, before she found an open spigot and turned the water on. Once under the steaming jets, her anxiety fell by the wayside to the priority of getting clean. As such she didn’t notice the eyes of the one other person in the room.

Angela had thought Fareeha was one of the first ones in the shower. She thought that by dallying they could sort of miss each other and avoid this strange circumstance. But as it turned out they were the last. Alone, together, wet, _things_.

Things, Angela thought as she watched the soap foam around Fareeha’s muscles. The way the bubbles slid off every ridge and found every curve. It was wrong to stare. Angela forced herself to look away many times. But every time she was called back. Fareeha still hadn’t noticed her, was too lost in her cleansing with a pleased smile on her face. Angela returned the smile, smitten. Until Fareeha’s eyes opened. And they found each other.

Despite being a few showers apart, Fareeha could still see Angela gulp. But she couldn’t find it in herself to be embarrassed, or anxious. Because Angela’s normally fluffy hair was plastered to her head, shining from being freshly washed, and streams of hot water had turned parts of her pale skin pink and… _things._

Angela saw Fareeha’s eyes dart downward, examining her body once, then twice, a painful pause, then a third time. She saw Fareeha’s body tense in desire, the muscles coming to life as she did. She swallowed again, licking her lips as she wondered how the water would taste from Fareeha’s skin. Had Angela been closer, she would have heard Fareeha’s soft moan at the sight of Angela’s lip licking. Instead, emboldened by each other’s obvious desires, Fareeha struck a pose.

She flexed her arms and tightened her abs, hoping to lighten the mood with humor, and winked at Angela. “Like what you see?”

Instead of answering, Angela moved. She moved from her shower, still running, and slowly made her way over. Fareeha’s flexing was forgotten as she watched that sexy, dripping saunter, the way that her thick thighs shook with each step and the natural sway to her hips. Angela didn’t stop until they were touching, hot, wet, skin flush against the other. In a move that absolutely had to have been practiced and perfected, Angela slowly looked up, eyeing Fareeha from beneath her lashes.

“Do you?” Angela asked, slow smile creeping on her lips.

“Very much,” Fareeha near-whispered at their closeness.

Angela smiled and lifted her head. They’d kissed before, once, after their last date. A quick peck goodnight at Angela’s door. But Fareeha would definitely consider this their first kiss. Slow, testing, spurred by the steam of the shower and their nudity but sex was the last thing on Fareeha’s mind. All she could think of was being a good kisser for Angela, and hoping that there would be many more of these in the future. Until Angela pulled away, dropped to her knees, and licked the shadow of abs on Fareeha’s stomach. Abs that then protruded as Fareeha’s stomach tightened.  She thought she heard Angela moan but before she could get a grasp on absolutely anything, Angela winked and sauntered away.

It was then, watching that ass walk away, that Fareeha definitely thought about sex.


	110. I Always Win-G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pharmercy prompt: "I always get what I want~" ;D

“Angela, no.”

Fareeha heard the familiar sound of a foot stomp and fought to keep her face stoic. “Don’t be like that.”

Another foot stomp. Fareeha looked over and found Angela frowning, bottom lip slowly edging out in a pout. Just like Fareeha wanted. She shook her head at her girlfriend. Angela’s head tilted to the side, baby blues putting on quite the show in the center of the grocery store aisle.

“Please, Fareeha? Pretty please?”

“You told me to tell you no to ice cream. We pinky promised on it. And now you’re making me the bad guy.”

Angela’s head tilted to the other side. “You’re not the bad guy. I am for ever suggesting that I could go to the store and not get ice cream. Let’s just let it go, hmm?”

Fareeha paused for the moment, pretending to be lost in thought as Angela stalked closer. She huffed and pressed herself against Fareeha in a hug, lips rising to kiss along Fareeha’s neck. “Please?”

“You want me to break my promise?”

Another kiss. “I’ll nullify the entire process. Nothing ever happened.”

“But I’ll know it did, even if it doesn’t show up on my record.”

A slight bite. Fareeha gasped at the feeling as Angela pressed closer. And what looked like a sweet kiss to any passersby was actually a near hickey from her girlfriend. “Please,” Angela whispered in her ear, far desperate than anyone should sound when concerning ice cream.

Fareeha sighed, shoulders dropping. “Pick your flavor.”

Angela perked up with a squeak and a smile, giving her girlfriend a proper kiss before opening the freezer door. Fareeha watched a smirk as Angela grabbed a gallon and dropped it into the cart.

“I always get what I want,” she teased, turning and giving her butt a little wiggle as thanks. Little did she know, Fareeha was thinking the exact same thing.


End file.
